


The Cowboy and the Outlaw

by pinkskyline



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, funnier than it sounds, old west au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:37:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkskyline/pseuds/pinkskyline
Summary: Ian isn't much of a cowboy. When a bank robbery spooks his horse, he's left alone in the desert without supplies. That is, until the bank robber, Mickey, shows up looking to steal his horse. They can't keep their hands off each other, but can they survive the wilderness, Terry's gang, and the posse on Mickey's tail?





	1. Chapter 1

The ladies gossiping on the general store porch sighed as he went by, but Ian was too busy trying to make his horse do what he wanted to notice. He didn’t much care about the notice of ladies anyway—it was more inconvenient than anything. He liked to tell people he avoided single young ladies because he didn’t have the money to marry, but there was no marriage in his future and he knew it. 

Part of the reason he’d come west in the first place was to silence his sister’s demands that he marry and take one of the younger children with him to some wealthy woman’s home. Lip had done as much, and Fiona, though separated from her husband, had at least made the attempt. But Ian had persuaded her that it would be a better use of his time to find a ranch to work on and send money home—or maybe try his hand staking a claim on one of the gold and silver rich areas popping up.  


He was a hard worker, but he couldn’t seem to keep a job for more than a couple weeks, so he’d pushed further west each time he’d been let go, and now at the age of 18, he’d made it all the way to Arizona Territory. From New York. He couldn’t mess up again or pretty soon he’d end up in the Pacific Ocean.  


Ian hadn’t noticed a placard for the tiny town he’d rode into. Maybe it was too new to have a name. The dominant smell in the place—other than horse shit—was freshly cut timber. The saloon was still being built, and the general store looked like it hadn’t been rained on once since it went up. He swung his legs to the left and dismounted his horse, tying up to a hitching post outside the sheriff’s station.  


He sauntered in, trying to look adult and confident. A man sat at the desk with his dirty boots up, head back, and his hat covering his face. So much for anyone caring about his swagger.  


Ian cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”  


The man jumped, as though he’d been asleep. He knocked the hat back and squinted at his visitor. “Eh?”  


“I’m Ian Gallagher, sir. I’m looking for work. Do you know of any ranches hiring?” He smiled winningly.  


The man swung his feet on the floor. “You work as a common labourer, or you got any special skills?”  


He had no skills at all, according to the last foreman he’d worked with. “Just a general labourer. I’m a hard worker.”  


The man stood, groaning and placing a hand on his lower back and extended his hand for Ian to shake. Ian took his hand, and noticed the craggy lines on his face. He was old to be a sheriff. “I’m Sheriff Gill. Best place to ask around for work is the Post Office. All the ranchers and settlers pass through there at least twice a week, if not more.”  


“I didn’t see the Post Office.”  


Gill stifled a yawn. “It’s a bit out of the way. Headed there myself in a few. I can take ya.”  


“Thank you. That’s mighty kind.”  


Ian followed the man through the street, leading his horse behind him. The Post Office was behind the small building Ian had thought was a house but now realized was a bank. The sheriff introduced him to the post master, and he gave the man his name and let it be known he was going to be staying at the boarding house on the edge of town, and then he left with the sheriff.  


Ian mounted his horse and tipped his hat to the man. “Thanks again for the help—” Ian’s words were cut off as the distinctive sound of gunshots rang through the air.  


The sheriff reached for his gun at the same moment Ian’s horse reared. “Get control of that horse, boy! What kind of cow poke are you?”  


Ian pulled back on the reins to get the horse to heel, but the horse had other ideas. His front end came down heavy and then he took off at a gallop, with Ian holding on for dear life. Dimly he heard more gunshots and shouting, but his horse kept going right out of town. The desert scrub was lit by the noon sun, and Ian tried every trick in the book to get his horse to stop. He wasn’t sure where he was getting the energy. His horse didn’t usually like walking much let alone running. The horse slowed to a canter but still moved steadily away from the town.  


When Ian finally managed to get the horse to stop, they were probably miles away from any path. He dismounted and pushed at his horse’s side. “Fine mess you’ve got us into. You’re probably covered in brambles.”  


He grabbed a hoof pick from his saddle bag and picked up his horse’s hooves one by one, looking for rocks that might have got caught in the horse’s cowardly retreat. “I hope you know your way back, because I don’t.”  


Ian sighed. There was high ground nearby, he’d have to climb up and see if he could find the proper direction. Or at least a stream. He didn’t have any supplies, and his canteen was empty. He could die out here. He should have jumped off the horse in town, but even though the beast didn’t have a name and seemed to hate him, he was all Ian had. He raised his hand to wipe the perspiration from his brow when he saw a snake slither by. Before he could react, his horse reared again, knocking Ian on the ground.  


Everything went black.  


***************************  
Ian heard a cooing noise and struggled to open his eyes, his head pounding. It was dark, so he must have been passed out for hours.  


“Get the fuck over here you dumb fucking horse,” a voice said—the words harsh, but spoken in a soft, cajoling tone.  


Ian somehow pieced together that someone was trying to get a hold of his horse. His chances of survival with no supplies were slim, but with no supplies and no horse? Practically non-existent. He struggled to sit up. “Hey, that’s my horse.”  


A short man wearing dirty clothes and a bandana on his head looked over at him. “I thought you were dead.”  


“Well, I’m not. So stay the fuck away from my horse.”  


The man came closer. He was younger than Ian had thought, at first, and had pretty blue eyes. Ian was just about to consider him kind of handsome when he pulled a gun out of his pants and pointed it at Ian. “I just robbed a bank and some asshole shot my horse, so I’m taking yours. You got a problem with it, I shoot you.”  


Something reckless made Ian say, “So you’re the reason my horse bolted. Thanks a lot.”  


The other boy—he couldn’t be much older than Ian, tilted his head like he didn’t know what to make of Ian and raised his eyebrows. “Some cowboy you are. You know you say whoa and they stop.”  


Ian rolled his eyes. “You can’t even get him close to you. Besides, things like this happen to lots of experienced riders.”  


The boy laughed shortly. “Yeah, I’m sure the plains are littered with experienced riders who got carried out of town and knocked out by their very well-trained horse. Tell me his name, and I’ll get him over here.”  


Ian shrugged sheepishly. “He doesn’t have a name.”  


The boy lowered the gun, then looked around and stuffed it back in the waist of his pants. “That’s your first problem, man. You gotta name your horse. It’s bad luck not to. Listen. You get your horse over here, and I’ll guide you somewhere safe.”  


“Like back to town?”  


The boy laughed. “You stupid or something? I just told you I robbed the bank. Well, not just me. My dad’s gang. He’s going to give me so much shit for what happened…anyway. I can’t go back there. But I can help you find the road and some supplies. We just have to get far away from here, double quick. They’re going to send a posse after me come morning. You got water?”  


Ian shook his head. “I was in that town to resupply. I didn’t have a chance to get anything before you and your gang came along. What are they called, anyway? Maybe I’ve heard of them.”  


“Milk Gang.” The boy held up his hand. “I know it sounds fucking stupid. Don’t blame me. None of the unwashed masses could say our Ukrainian last name so they shortened it.”  


“I’m Ian.” He held out his hand.  


The boy took it. Ian tried to ignore the heat that shot up his arm at the boy’s touch. “Mickey,” he said.  


Ian was pretty sure he held on to Mickey’s hand for a couple of moments too long, but Mickey didn’t seem to mind. “You’ll take me to civilization? Really?”  


Mickey smiled, and that smile made his face, which had been unremarkable save for his eyes a moment ago, light up with a pure light that made him look innocent and pretty. “It’s a deal,” he said. He shook Ian’s hand and let go.  


Ian whistled, and his horse trotted over. Mickey grabbed the reins, and in what seemed like one graceful move, mounted up and slapped the reins against the horse’s flank. The horse didn’t move. “What’d you fuckin do to this horse, man?”  


“You little shit! You were going to steal him!” Ian shouted.  


Mickey raised his hand. “Keep your voice down, man.”  


Ian was enraged that Mickey would break his word, though, so he grabbed the boy’s arm and leg and pulled him off of the horse. The other boy slid off the horse with a loud “oomph” and then turned on Ian like a viper.  


One minute Ian was standing up, and the next he was on the ground, protecting his head from the hellion who was beating him as he tried to get the odd lick in. Mickey straddled his waist, then grabbed his arms and pinned them to either side of his face. They both breathed heavily and stared at each other for a minute, and then Ian felt something hard pressing against his hip. Either Mickey’s dick was hard or his gun was soft. Ian thrust his hip against the hardness and saw Mickey’s eyes half-close with pleasure. Ian thrust his hip again for fun.  


“Stop that!” Mickey said.

“Stop what?” Ian thrust his hip again, making Mickey shudder. “Come on, come on,” he said, adjusting his legs so that his cock lined up with Mickey’s. He thrust again, and when Mickey felt Ian’s dick against his he closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting most of his weight against Ian’s and putting his face into the crook of Ian’s neck. He didn’t let go of Ian’s wrists, but Ian didn’t care. He thrust and squirmed madly, loving the noises Mickey was making and only half-aware of the groans coming out of his own mouth as he chased an orgasm months in the making. It had been too long since he got off with someone else, and this boy was too fucking hot to resist. He took a deep breath, smelling Mickey’s throat—it smelled like dirt and sex and sweat and Ian didn’t think he’d ever smelled anything sweeter. The smell pushed him over the edge and he bit down on Mickey’s neck.  


If he interpreted the noises Mickey made correctly, the bite was what pushed him over the edge.  


Mickey leaned back, still straddling Ian, and looked down at him, breathing hard. “Wouldn’t fucking matter if I stole the horse. That horse is defective.”  


Ian wished he could push the dark hair off of Mickey’s forehead. Mickey would probably freak out if he made even the slightest tender gesture, though, so it was probably good that Mickey was still holding his wrists. “He’s tired. He ran all the way here.”  


“Yeah, hours ago. He’s probably thirsty. I know where there’s a stream nearby. If I let you up you’re not going to attack me again, are you, tough guy?”  


Ian frowned. “I attacked you because you were going to leave me here to die.”  


“Well, I, uh. I changed my mind. You good?”  


Ian smiled, probably a little dopily. “I feel great right now.”  


Mickey leaned back further still. “If I let you up, you’re not going to try and kiss me, are you?”  


“Course not,” Ian said.  


Mickey let go of his wrists and Ian grabbed the back of Mickey’s head, raising up to kiss him. Mickey kissed him back, thrusting his tongue against Ian’s hungrily and making those sounds of pleasure that made Ian’s dick hard. Suddenly Mickey pushed him away.  


“Come on. We gotta go.”  


Mickey’s weight was gone, and Ian reached up a hand, not expecting Mickey to help him up. Surprisingly, Mickey yanked him up and kissed him soundly, then let go of his hand and walked away. “This way. Bring your horse. And think of a fuckin name for that big moron. I ain’t riding on an unlucky horse.”  


Ian grabbed the horse’s reins and followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic on this site but I have a bunch on fanfiction . net under the same name if anyone else is desperately looking for new Mickey/Ian because you're actually excited about the new season of Shameless for once. At least one, Mickey Milkovich Crime Fighter is long and completely finished. I'm just too lazy to transfer them over here. Please subscribe if you find this chapter interesting--I'm thinking this will be like 20000-30000 words.


	2. Chapter 2

Mickey patted the horse’s butt as the big beast drank from the stream, and looked over at the boy he’d decided to travel with. Ian. He was handsome, if you liked dopey, alien-looking motherfuckers. And it seemed he did. He shook his head, remembering how he’d let the kid kiss him. What the hell had he been thinking? His father would kill them both.

Ian knocked into him with a shoulder. “You like what you see?”  


Mickey scowled. This kid. “We’ve got to get out of here. We can’t go fast riding double, and they know I didn’t get away clean. They’ll be a posse out looking for me in the morning.”  


Ian’s forehead crinkled. “How did you get away? It was noon when you robbed the bank. And it was dark when you found me. Why didn’t the posse find you this afternoon?”  


“I hid. Went to ground, literally. But there’s people in the town who know the hiding spots around here same as I do, so that won’t work indefinitely.”  


“Any place out of the range of the people in town that we can push to get to tonight?”  


Ian turned away and brushed his horse, who was still drinking. Crazy kid, letting the horse get that thirsty. He was the rottenest cowboy Mickey had ever seen. Mickey had had to remind the kid to fill up his canteen at a stream in the middle of the desert. Still, Mickey considered the question.  


“They think I don’t have a horse, so they’ll probably concentrate the search a day’s walk around the town. I know of a cave a few days walk from here. Maybe we can make it, if we push. Hole up for a few days before we move on.”  


Ian smiled sunnily. “Sounds good.”  


Mickey frowned. “Look, they’re going to be searching for me. You could just stay here and wait to be rescued by the town folk.”  


“Come on, Mickey. If I did that, you’d have to take my horse, and then I’d be out the cost of him. No one’s going to reimburse me for it. If you let an outlaw take your horse, it’s your own fault for being weak.”  


Mickey put a hand on his arm. “If we get caught, you could get in trouble.”  


“If we get caught I’m going to claim to be your hostage. You’ll hang if you’re caught anyway, right? So what’s the difference if I pretend I wasn’t a willing companion? They gonna hang you more?”  


“I guess. That horse finished drinkin?”  


Ian threw him a look of deep superiority, looking down his nose at Mickey. “His name’s Winsor. Please address him as such.”  


Mickey laughed. He leaned over and kissed Ian again, quick and close-mouthed, wanting to hold onto him and never let go, but pulling back immediately. “Thank you. I guess I can ride on this horse safely now.”  


Ian seemed to be in some kind of shock at the kiss. Mickey scowled and mounted the horse, complaining inwardly that Ian had been the one to kiss him first, so fuck him and his shocked face, and now they’d started, Mickey wasn’t sure how to stop. Maybe you just stop. Maybe you just don’t kiss him every time he does something cute. Shame self-control had never been one of Mickey’s strong suits. He waited for Ian to swing up behind him, and then they started down the path. After a short time on the trail, they made it to the road. Mickey squeezed his legs, moving Winsor from a trot to a slow pace that was comfortable to ride double and didn’t seem to be straining him.  


Mickey glanced at Ian. “This is a good horse.”  


Ian seemed less than convinced, judging by his skeptical look, and moved his hands from the saddle to around Mickey’s waist. Mickey wanted to tell him to move them but he convinced himself not to. He was going to part ways with Ian in a few days, so why not enjoy his arms around him while he had the chance? Where was the harm? No one could see them. And maybe it was true what they said about loving and losing—better to have loved, and all that—but this wasn’t love. He just liked the kid because he touched him the way he liked, and he was handsome, and somehow he, unlike most people, liked Mickey.  


Those clever hands moved under his shirt, and Ian nuzzled his face into Mickey’s neck. What was it with this kid and his neck? Mickey was annoyed to find himself getting hard, and pushed Ian’s wandering hands away from his dick. “Hold on to me all you want, but save that shit for when we stop. I’m concentrating here. Riding a horse is more than just grabbing your dick and holding on for dear life.”  


Mickey felt Ian’s laughter on his back. The kid had plastered his front to Mickey’s back, and the arraignment felt so good it made Mickey ache. And not in a fucking sensible place like his dick, but someplace a whole lot more troubling.  


Ian said nothing but snuggled closer, holding on tight and keeping his hands from wandering. Mickey sighed and wished he’d let Ian rub his dick. At least orgasms were less confusing than being snuggled by a stranger and wanting it so bad he could die from it. Okay, fuck this. Enough thinking.  


He glanced back at Ian. “What are you doing in Jerico?”  


“That’s the name of that town? I was looking for work. I can’t seem to keep a job at a ranch.”  


Mickey snorted. “Can’t imagine why. Why you need a job? I thought everyone came west to make a land claim. Why don’t you do that?”  


Ian, somehow, pulled Mickey impossibly tighter. “I’ve got a big family. They wanted to marry me off to some rich lady so I could get me and a younger sibling out of the tenements, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. You can probably guess why.”  


“You Irish?”  


“Yeah. I guess you can probably hear the accent now and again. We left because of the famine. Getting us on that boat to America was the only good thing our da ever did.”  


Mickey rubbed Ian’s arm without thinking. “He a bad guy?”  


Ian made a considering noise and continued, “He’s useless. A drunk. But he’s smart. One of the most irritating things about him is that he could be something better, if he wasn’t like, committed to being a waste of space. What about your dad. You said he runs the Milk Gang?”  


Mickey removed his hand from Ian’s arm. “Yep.”  


“So, you guys are like Robin Hood’s gang of merry men or something?” Ian asked, laughter in his voice.  


“Or something. You don’t want to meet my dad, alright? He’d kill us both, if he knew…and even without that, he’s a bad guy. He’s dangerous, Ian. Even to me and my family. Stay the fuck away from him.”  


Ian leaned back, the cold from the loss of his body heat noticeably uncomfortable on Mickey’s back. “Why don’t you leave him, then?”  


“Can’t,” Mickey said. Ian made a distressed sound and returned to his place on Mickey’s back, and Mickey put his hand back on Ian’s arm. “Got a sister. Brother too. Mandy won’t leave dad, and I won’t leave her with him. Not alone.”  


“I’ve heard gangs turn on each other sometimes.”  


Mickey laughed. Was that Ian’s way of asking if he’d ever considered killing his dad? Sometimes he felt like he’d never considered anything else. “Mandy’s loyal. I don’t know why. My dad used to be nice to her, I guess. Let her go to school a lot longer than he let the rest of us. Bought her pretty dresses. And my brother wouldn’t turn on my dad because Terry’s the only one who knows where all the shit we’ve stolen is. He keeps it hidden from us. To keep us from spending it irresponsibly, he says.”  


“But really to keep you in line?”  


“Oh yeah. Iggy’s too dumb to see it, and Mandy’s blinded by thinking he loves her. I used to be his good little soldier, but…”  


“But you’re too smart. You can see what he’s doing.”  


Mickey laughed bitterly. “I’m doing a drunk dipshit’s dirty work. Taking all the risk while he takes all the profit. I’m not the smart one in this scenario.”  


“We could find a way to find out where the money is, and then we could get your sister and your brother out of there.” Ian’s voice was fierce with excitement.  


“Shut up. Fucking stop it. I’m not letting you anywhere near my dad. Just forget all about everything I said. That’s not happening.”  


“But Mickey, you don’t have to stay with him. We could trick him. I’ve got ideas about how to do it already.”  


Mickey felt the hope bubbling up in his chest like vomit, and pushed it ruthlessly down. No way could this kid help him. Not with Iggy and Mandy on Terry’s side. If he could convince them to help him and Ian…but no. He couldn’t deal with this. No way could he let himself hope again. Even if he could get away from his dad, he’d still be an outlaw. He was fucked for life, and no way was he going to drag this sweet faced kid down with him. Even if he could fight well enough to have Mickey’s back.  


“Hey,” he said, “I know you can’t cowboy worth a damn, but can you shoot a gun?”  


Ian grinned against his shoulder. “I’m a crack shot.”  


“No way. Do you even carry a gun?”  


“Got one in my saddle bag.”  


“This far west you should wear it.”  


“This mean you want me to help you go up against your dad?”  


Mickey stopped the horse. They were at the path that would veer off into the cave already. The horse was fast, but part of Mickey wondered if they were still too close to town. The first tendrils of dawn were already brightening the sky, though, so the cave would have to do. Ian slid off the horse.  


Mickey grabbed his shoulder. “I’m not letting you anywhere near my father, alright? He’s not what you think. He’s not some loveable rebel from a dime store novel. He’s already dragged me into his shit. I’m an outlaw, man. Wanted posters and everything. You don’t want to hitch your horse to this wagon. I ain’t worth it. And if you’re thinking that it’d be worth the risk for the money, shit. It probably ain’t that much. You’re a shitty cowboy and my family are shitty outlaws.”  


Ian raised his chin defiantly. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Mickey. If it was up to me we’d run off together right now. Your dad might even think you died or got caught. People die out here all the time. You could have got bit by a rattle snake or some shit. If your brother and sister are anything like you they can take care of themselves. It’s the perfect time to run away. This Terry guy wouldn’t even look for you. I think you want to stay. You’re scared.”  


“Fuck you,” Mickey said, though without heat. It was hard to argue with the most sensible thing Ian had ever said to him. Mickey grabbed the horse’s reins and led him towards the cave. Ian followed behind, cursing as he struggled to find his footing in the dark.  


They went down a long hill, into a clearing. Mickey turned to Ian. “There’s some desert grass here if you want to leave your horse. You think he’ll wander?”  


“Winsor might be a dick but he knows I have oatcakes. He knows my whistle.”  


“Take his kit off. If anyone sees Winsor they’ll think he’s just a wild horse. Hopefully.”  


They took the bridle, saddle and all the other kit off, split it between them, and set out on foot for the cave. Mickey wasn’t sure it was big enough to serve their purpose. Shit, it might be filled with wild animals or vagrants. But it was their only hope.


	3. Chapter 3

The cave was creepy. When Mickey had mentioned the cave Ian had had a brief romantic fantasy about sexy ways he and Mickey could pass the time, but the reality didn’t match the fantasy. He didn’t have any desire to ‘hole up’ there. It was cold but they couldn’t even light a fire because someone might see the smoke. They could light a small lamp after the sun went down, because according to Mickey, no one would see that small amount of light from the outside. Now, in daylight, they could see from the light filtering in from the cave entrance. Even though it was morning, they’d decided to have a nap because they’d been travelling for most of the night.

He was starting to see what Mickey was talking about when said being an outlaw wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. 

The cave consisted of a long tunnel. Not exactly featureless, but what features it had made the place uncomfortable. The rocks were sharp and black. Even with his sleeping kit down on the gravel the ground still felt rock hard. And forget walking around. The ceiling of the cave wasn’t even high even for Mickey to stand up straight, let alone Ian. And it was cold. 

Mickey chuckled, and Ian glared, suspecting Mickey somehow could tell exactly what he was thinking. The dark haired boy threw his pack down beside Ian and grinned. “Not too late to go back to Jerico.”

“Sorry. I guess I pictured something different.” Ian ran his hand through his hair. It was greasy and dirty. He’d expected to be able to clean up in Jerico. “It’s not like I grew up with luxury or anything. I just happen to like it.”

Mickey scowled. “Get up.”

Ian scrambled to half-stand beside his blankets, worried he’d offended Mickey. 

Mickey crouched down and took out his own blankets and spread most of them down on top of Ian’s, then gestured to Ian. “Okay lie back down, princess and the pea.” 

Ian lay back down, finding it slightly better, then Mickey joined him and covered the both of them with a wool blanket. They had to lie close together because their bed was small, but Ian didn’t mind that. They lay on their sides facing each other, and Ian found himself staring at Mickey’s pretty eyes. Mickey reached up and ran a finger down the side of Ian’s face, then leaned over and kissed him. Ian melted into the kiss, putting his arms around Mickey and pulling him even closer. He wasn’t sure where Mickey’s protestations about not wanting to kiss had gone, but he wasn’t complaining. 

Mickey pulled away. “If you’re uncomfortable, you can use me as a pillow.”

Ian felt tears in the corner of his eyes and did as Mickey suggested, moving Mickey’s shoulder so that he lay his back and then settling onto his shoulder as Mickey’s arms held him securely. Mickey wasn’t his first lover. Even though he was young, he’d had men who paid him attention, bought him things, and helped him with his education in exchange for his affection. Nothing they’d ever done had touched him the way Mickey asking him to use him as a pillow had, and Ian couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the dangerous situation. Or the sense he had that Mickey being kind was rare—and genuine. Mickey would never act kind to get his way like all the men Ian had known before would. If Mickey didn’t like you, you knew about it. Every spontaneous piece of affection Mickey threw his way seemed almost involuntary, like he couldn’t help it in the face of whatever he was feeling for Ian. It worried Ian, because he knew men who loved men sometimes went beyond their comfort zone and then attacked the man they were with, but it touched him, too, that Mickey seemed to feel as much as he did. 

“Stop thinking and go to sleep,” Mickey said. He rubbed his chin into the top of Ian’s head and Ian closed his eyes, and he fell asleep with surprising ease. 

When Ian woke, his stirring must have jostled Mickey awake. He pushed Ian off of him and reached for his bag, taking a drink of water from the canteen and offering it to Ian. 

Ian took a long drink and then sloshed the water around. “How much water do we have?”

Mickey’s hand was back in his bag, and he pulled out and unwrapped a paper package with dried beef in it, split the beef in half, and handed some to Ian. “There’s a stream at the other end of this cave. Or at least that’s what Iggy told me when we were here one time.”

“Iggy?” Ian asked, taking a bite of the jerky. It was salty but he was too hungry to care. He took another bite and eyed up Mickey’s bag, hoping there was something else in there. 

“My brother. All I’ve got is some stale biscuits Mandy made and some apples. We should keep the apples for later, but I guess the biscuits won’t be good for much longer.” Mickey handed Ian a biscuit, and Ian ate it ravenously, even though it was very stale. Mickey ate one, too, and then took a drink from the canteen.

Ian looked at the dirt caked on Mickey’s face and imagined he looked just as dirty or worse. “A stream? Can we bathe in it, do you think?” 

“I don’t got any soap.”

Ian grinned. “I do. What about Winsor? Do you think he would have found the stream?”

Mickey laughed. “See how that name just rolls off your tongue like he’s always had it? Yeah, that meadow we left him in was near the stream. I think he’d be smart enough to find the water. But we can check on him. Bring your soap and some oats, if you got ‘em, and the canteen.” 

Ian put the required items in a handkerchief and tied it off, and glanced over at Mickey, who was picking up his pack, empty of most of the items but whatever he’d left inside. “What have you got there?” 

Mickey looked away. “Nothing. We’re going to have to light the lamp. I don’t think the light from the entrance will go much beyond that corner.”

Ian lit the lamp and followed Mickey through the cave. There wasn’t much of interest in the cave—though it was as spooky as Injun Joe’s hideout in Tom Sawyer—but Ian supposed they were lucky it wasn’t full of snakes or mountain lions. Or bats. 

They heard the rushing water first, and then saw the light of the other entrance to the cave. Ian blew out the lamp and set it down on a rock as they rounded the bend and saw they were behind a waterfall. 

Ian walked into the cavern, which was larger and much higher than the one they’d slept in and filled with light. One wall of the cavern a crystalline wall of translucent water, the backside of a waterfall, and the rush of water left tendrils of spray that made rainbows in the mist even though the daylight was outside. Ian drank it in. “Holy shit, this is beautiful.” 

“Yeah?” Mickey asked. 

Ian glanced at him, and saw the other man was blushing. Mickey had been here before, Ian realized, and had wanted to share it with Ian. He wouldn’t say that, but Ian was as sure of this as he would have been if Mickey had said it aloud. “Thank you for bringing me here.” 

Mickey smiled, and jerked his head towards the waterfall. “There’s a pool out there to wash in. You wanna?”

Ian nodded, then stripped down to his underclothes as Mickey was doing. He would have swum naked but his underclothes needed to be washed as surely as his body did. Mickey did the same. Ian got the soap, and then Mickey took Ian’s hand and led him through the waterfall. They stood on a ledge as the water pounded onto their shoulders, and when they saw no one was around, Mickey let go of his hand and jumped into the pool of water a short distance below. Ian followed, letting go of the soap and watching it float to the surface. 

Mickey ducked under the water. “Can you swim?”

“Yeah. You?” Ian said, shaking his head to get rid of the water. He realized he could touch the smooth, rocky bottom of the pool and stood up. The water came to his mid chest. He grabbed the soap and looked around. The pool was encircled by a small rock canyon, the entrance of which was carpeted with grass. The waterfall was just as pretty on this side. Winsor was grazing nearby. 

“Nah. But it’s not deep here.”

Ian and Mickey spent an improbably long time washing themselves, and each other, splashing, and swimming, then fed Winsor some oats, hung up their underclothes, and went back under the waterfall at Mickey’s suggestion. 

When Ian saw Mickey clean and naked out of the water, he whistled lowly. “You’re fucking beautiful, Mick. I didn’t realize how beautiful. You clean up good. Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You’re like a work of art, dumbass.”

An involuntary bubble of laughter shot out of Ian’s mouth at the grudging yet flattering description. “Yeah?”

Mickey leaned over and placed a kiss on his neck. “So fucking pretty. Love your hair. That red, everywhere. So fucking hot.”

“Most people think it’s ugly.” Ian had experienced both people finding his red hair and pale skin attractive and prejudice when people rightly assumed his colouring meant he was Irish. 

“Most people are fucking morons,” Mickey said. He took a blanket out of the bag and laid it down, then held something out to Ian.

Ian took the tube and looked at it. “Vaseline?” 

“Yeah,” he said, lying down on the blanket. “Come’ere”

Ian kneed down. “You want me to get myself ready?”

Mickey glared. “No. Me.”

Heat rushed through Ian’s body and his dick twitched. “You want me to fuck you?” He hadn’t expected such a tough guy to want it like that.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching out and running his fingers lightly over Ian’s cock. It firmed up considerably. “You want to?”

“There aren’t words for how much I want that,” Ian said, squirting Vaseline on his cock and rubbing it around. He then took another dollop and started rubbing it around the outside of Mickey’s ass, then dipping his finger in. “Jesus Mickey.”

Mickey shuddered and then moaned as Ian added another finger. “I’m the one who should be calling for Jesus. Damn that feels good.”

Ian glanced around; the mist swirled magically. He kissed Mickey’s belly as he opened him up. “Baby did you take me to a romantic waterfall to make love to you?”

“Fuck off. Get on with it,” Mickey said, but his lips twitched as though he was on the edge of laughter. 

“I like it. You treat me so good Mick. You do.” He found a place inside that Mickey liked, judging by his cries and squirming, and Ian teased at it for a while, hardening to the point of madness as Mickey made the cave ring with his moans. 

“Come on, man. Get in me before I fuckin kill you,” Mickey said. 

Ian looked up at him. Mickey’s face was red and sweating. Ian twitched his fingers and Mickey’s face glazed over in pleasure. “Can I fuck you face to face? Please?” Ian begged. 

“You’re a damned sap, man,” Mickey said, but he reached down and pulled Ian up his body, spreading his legs and tilting his body to give Ian the access he needed. 

Ian kissed him, needing to taste his lips like he’d never needed to taste anyone before. He tried to line up his cock without breaking the kiss, but Mickey pushed him away and gave him a look that was so reproving Ian couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry. I’m trying to do everything at once. Never felt like this.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and laughed with him. “Get it fuckin right. Need you in me. Now.” 

Ian tried to enter him slowly but Mickey surged up to make him bottom out so fast it probably hurt, but a quick examination of Mickey’s face showed it either hadn’t or he was used to pain. Ian took that as a green light to move. The pleasure almost knocked him out of his rhythm. He opened his eyes and watched Mickey’s face as he took him, and then he realized for the first time in his history of sexual encounters that his pleasure was secondary—that what mattered more was how Mickey felt. He wanted it to be good for Mickey. It had to be good for him. 

“Fuck, Ian, fuck me better than anyone else. So good,” Mickey said. He said other things, too, that Ian pretended he wasn’t holding onto tightly so he could play them back on his darker days or when he needed to feel like he mattered. 

Finally they both were satisfied, and Ian rolled away to find something to wipe them off with. 

Then went back to the other end of the cave and settled in, talking softly to each other until they heard something moving outside the entrance. They froze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mickey's vocabulary is not very 1880s...but I'm not worried about it. Also, it probably doesn't make sense that Mickey is a lot less self-hating and conflicted about being gay in this than in the show, but let's go with the fact that it's the 1880s so it never really occurred to Terry that anyone was gay so he had less opportunity to mess Mickey up about it. Cool? Cool.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Tying up a hostage, time-period appropriate negative ideas about mental illness, mentions of Terry/Mandy incest/rape.

The noise got closer, and turned from something that could be anything to something that could be nothing other than boots on gravel. Mickey looked at Ian and they, as one, got up and hid behind a boulder.

It was a shame that their interlude appeared to be over, but on a positive note, they’d put their clothes and guns back on. At least, Mickey was wearing his guns. Ian’s gun was probably still in his pack. But at least they weren’t naked with only their dick in their hand. Or each other’s dicks. Damn, in a way they really were lucky. 

Mickey heard the man kicking or looking through their packs—he couldn’t see anything but the jangle of the buckles was distinctive enough. They should have hid their packs, that way maybe the man would have left without exploring the cave further. But at least the intruder couldn’t be sure that there were two people to go with the two packs—he was expecting Mickey alone, and he had Ian to back him up. He glanced at Ian, wondering if that was really true. Ian had claimed he’d throw himself on the mercy of the posse and pretend he’d been Mickey’s hostage. Maybe he’d do that instead. 

Mickey hoped the man would just back out of the cave and leave, but he didn’t. He looked in every nook and cranny, then he turned and approached the part of the cave where Mickey and Ian hid, gun raised ahead of him. 

Ian jumped from where he had crouched, tackling the man to the ground. In the semidarkness it was difficult for Mickey to see what was happening, but he heard the deafening noise of a gun firing and echoing throughout the cave. He half-expected the cave to collapse around them, but the loud noise didn’t so much as dislodge a pebble. Mickey struggled to see, then kicked the gun out of the stranger’s hand while Ian writhed with him on the floor. 

“Hey, are you hurt, man?” Mickey shouted. 

Ian grunted and pulled the man’s hands above his head. “You got anything that’ll pass for rope?”

“There’s rope in my pack,” Mickey said. He picked his way carefully around the two, though the man had stopped struggling. “Did you knock him out?”

“Put pressure on his jugular. Always works.”

“Are you hurt, though?” Mickey asked. He found the roped in his pack and handed it to Ian, who tied the man expertly and then cut the rope with the knife he kept at his belt. 

Ian grinned. “Nope. Lucked out this time.”

“Why the hell would you just throw yourself on an armed man like that? You’ve gotta be crazy, man.”

Ian frowned. “I was looking out for you. Us.” He handed the rest of the rope back to Mickey.

Mickey took the rope and put it back in his pack. “You were supposed to say I was your hostage, remember? These people know your name and face, and now…if you want to be able to get out of this without being named an outlaw you’re going to have to kill this guy.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “It’s dark in here. I can just say he didn’t see what he thinks he saw. I was only in town for a minute anyway. Stop worrying so much.”

“Fine. But we gotta get out of here before he wakes up and sees you for real.”

Ian laughed lightly. “You’re an outlaw. You never heard of blindfolding a hostage?”

“Why do we need to stay with him anyway?”

“Find out what he knows. What the posse’s plans are.” Ian reached over to his bedding and ripped a strip of fabric from it, tying it around the hostage’s eyes. “See? Problem solved.”

Mickey scowled. This plan was unnecessarily reckless. Why should they have any more contact with the posse than was necessary? They might learn some useless plans the moronic townspeople had cooked up, but the hostage might learn things about them that would get one or both of them in the hangman’s noose at the same time. Terry was stupid, and even he didn’t take hostages unless he planned on killing them. Too risky. “Ian, we gotta go. Either he was travelling with someone or someone knew where he was travelling to. People just don’t randomly ride into the desert.”

“Okay, you go out and see if you can see anyone else.”

Mickey sighed. He’d thought his brother was hard to travel with. Geez. He crouched down and got a pair of binoculars from his pack, got up and walked around the corner to the mouth of the cave, and then poked his head out, half-expecting gunshots. But there was nothing. He scanned the area, and saw nothing but a horse tied to a gnarled tree. It was a lovely chestnut mare with a nice temperament. He and Ian should just mount up and ride away, now they both had horses. He sighed again, then untied the horse and led it down the hill and around the path to the meadow where Winsor was still grazing. 

“You might as well keep this guy company,” he said. He quickly took the bridle off the horse and slapped its flank lightly, releasing it to get a drink from the stream. He was pretty sure a horse wouldn’t stray into the desert when it had grazing and water at hand—and he had more important things to worry about right now. 

Mickey went back up to the mouth of the cave and then walked by it, climbing up to the top of the rocks and looking around in all directions. He saw no tell-tale clouds of dust from horses, and no sign of anyone else at all. It was possible, he supposed, that the man had foolishly traveled alone, or that he had come in a different direction from the town he’d robbed the bank. There were prospectors everywhere these days. Maybe Ian was right, and they should ask the guy some questions.

Mickey hooked the binoculars to his belt and climbed down. He heard voices when he walked into the cave.

“Just tell me what you’re doing out here.” Ian’s voice was shaking and he sounded louder than necessary. He sounded unhinged. 

“There’s a—there’s a reward for the—for the bank robber.” The tied-up man trembled and cringed. 

Ian was pacing, kicking at stones and waving his arms around. “That’s what you do? You just hunt people? What’d he ever do to you?”

“He’s—he’s—he’s a bank-robber.” The tied-up man sounded terrified. 

“Don’t you people have better things to do? I thought ranching was time-consuming. You ever heard of live and let live? Live free or die? You really have to go around trying to make everyone play by the rules, do you?” Ian sounded like was gearing up for a tirade. 

Mickey felt it best he interrupt, and get the questioning back on track. “And you came out to the desert alone?”

The tied-up man flinched at the second voice, and then choked back a sob. “Yes! Yes I already said I’m all alone. Please don’t hurt me.”

“You know if we leave him tied up in this cave it’s the same as killing him,” Mickey said.

Before Ian could respond the tied-up man shouted, “No, no, you’re wrong. The rest of them are coming here tomorrow. They went west today, and if they don’t find anything they’re going to head south.”

“So if we head west we might be able to avoid them?” Ian asked.

“Well, that or we’ll cross paths with them.” He wanted to tell Ian they’d be better to just go straight north, but he didn’t want to talk about plans in front of the hostage—although maybe Ian was trying to throw the rest of the posse off by making false plans in front of the hostage. But that gave him an idea. 

“Hey, man,” he said, careful not to use Ian’s name, “We both have horses now. We can ride hard to the Mexican border right now.” 

Ian gave him a strange look, and Mickey put a finger over his mouth and pointed to the hostage. Ian’s eyebrows drew together. “Can we really make it?”

“If we leave now, and they find this guy sometime tomorrow, even it’s in the morning, they’ll never catch us. Not if we ride hard. If we were riding double on your horse, not a chance, but now that we both have horses, we can make it.”

“We could never follow you over the border. That’s what you should do,” the hostage babbled. 

Mickey gestured for Ian to agree by waving his arms and nodding his head. Ian gave him a confused look but eventually shook his head. 

“Okay, yeah. I think you’re right,” Ian said.

They picked up their packs and Winsor’s saddle and kit, and left the cave, the man’s blubbering thanks for their mercy fading as they walked away. When they were out of earshot, Ian turned to Mickey. “You really want to go to Mexico?”

“Of course not. If I was going there, I wouldn’t tell you in front of him. If they go south, we can go north. We’ll go right past a main road, and we can split up. You go wherever, and I’ll go back to my dad’s camp.”

Ian grabbed Mickey’s arm. “You can’t really want to go back there, Mick. Come on. We could—we really could go to Mexico.”

“I told you, we can’t do that. Not with my sister there. Iggy—Iggy could handle my dad on his own. Not Mandy.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Girls aren’t delicate flowers like people want you to think. I bet she’s tougher than you realize.” 

“My dad’s been fucking her!” Mickey shouted. He felt his eyes go wide. He hadn’t expected to say that. He never thought he’d tell anyone, let alone someone he just met. But Ian was…none of his rules seemed to apply to Ian. 

Ian let go of Mickey’s arm. “What?”

Mickey sighed. The saddle he was carrying felt like lead. “We usually get drunk and sleep like the dead, but like a week ago I didn’t drink as much for some reason and I got up in the night. I saw him. And worse, he saw me—they both did. I saw them. Mandy hasn’t looked me in the eye since. And dad. I think that’s why he left me in Jerico. I think he wants me dead.”

“Was he the one who shot your horse?”

Mickey shrugged. He started walking towards the meadow, and Ian followed him. “There were bullets flying all around us. It wouldn’t surprise me, though. So I think I…I think I have to confront my dad. I have to protect Mandy from him. I can’t just walk away after that.”

“No, you can’t. But you can’t do it alone, either.” 

“I won’t. I’ll tell Iggy. It’ll be fine.”

“Is Iggy the type of guy who would believe you if you said something bad about your dad?”

Mickey grimaced. Iggy definitely wouldn’t believe it. But that was Mickey’s problem, not Ian's. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

They arrived in the meadow and put their equipment down, and Mickey felt so light in contrast he almost felt like he was floating. He swung the tension out of his arms and looked around. The stranger’s horse was still there, and Winsor grazed just a little further away.

Ian reached for Mickey’s face, leaning into kiss him. 

Mickey pulled away. “What the fuck, man!” They might be out of hearing range but for all they knew their hostage had escaped. It was crazy to kiss so close to another person, tied-up or not. 

“Mickey, you’re not alone anymore. I care about you. Your problems are my problems.”

“People like you and me don’t get to just do shit like that. You don’t just. Jesus, Ian. What is wrong with you, man? I’m starting to wonder if the reason you can’t hold down a job is that you’re fucking crazy, not that you can’t cowboy worth a damn.”

“Fuck you! I’m not crazy!” Ian said. “The only thing crazy about me is that I thought you gave a shit about me.”

“Oh my god, Ian, can you stop being so dramatic for half a second?”

“I just…I just don’t like it when people call me crazy,” Ian said. 

Mickey thought back to Ian’s behavior in the cave. He wasn’t sure if Ian had been trying to act unhinged to scare the prisoner or if his ranting and pacing had been all him, and suddenly he was afraid to ask. But strangely, the realization that Ian might lose control now and then didn’t make him care about Ian any less. It made him want to wrap Ian up in his arms and take care of him. 

“I don’t want you getting hurt. My dad would kill you,” Mickey said, his voice so gentle he barely recognized it. 

Ian looked up, and whatever expression he saw on Mickey’s face melted his anger and brought out a look of tenderness on Ian’s face. “I told you I have a plan.”

“I’d rather live with my dad for five lifetimes than see you hurt.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s about your sister. You have to let me help you. At least let me tell you the plan.”

Mickey reluctantly nodded. He didn’t have a plan, and whatever half-assed ideas he had always seemed to be more likely to get him killed than anything else. If Ian had a plan, he could at least listen to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Ian and Mickey saddled up and headed out on the trail. Ian followed behind Mickey’s horse on Winsor. It was funny—but Winsor had been behaving a lot better since Mickey had forced Ian to name the horse. Course, Mickey had rode him before, and now Winsor was following behind Mickey on another horse, but it was probably the name.

“Hey, what’s that horse’s name?” Ian called.

Mickey looked back and threw Ian a crooked smile. “I didn’t ask the dude and I can’t speak horse.”

“You know that means you’re going to have to name it yourself.”

Mickey shook his head and turned his attention back to the trail, and Ian wondered if the so-called superstition had been just a way for Mickey to change Ian’s attitude towards his horse. He wasn’t sure if Mickey was that insightful. But every time Mickey surprised Ian, it was by being even better than Ian had thought he was. Like the thing with Mandy. The fact that Mickey wanted to save his sister from the abhorrent situation she was in only made Ian lo—care about him more. He was falling for Mickey and falling hard. 

The trail butted up to the road and when they turned on to the wider surface finally Mickey and Ian were able to ride abreast. 

Mickey looked over. “So? What’s the big plan?”

“I take an elevated position above the camp and take some shots at it.”

“Like with a gun?” Mickey asked, his voice high with disbelief and his eyebrows climbing his forehead. “You want to shoot at my family with a gun?”

“I told you, I’m a crack shot. I’ll just take a few shots above everyone’s head. Your dad will think the townsfolk caught up with you and go retrieve the stash of money he’s been hiding from you, and you can see where he hides it, steal it, and use that to get your brother to go against your dad with him.”

“So that’s why you can’t just kill my dad. Because of the stash.”

Ian blinked. “I suppose I could just—just kill your dad. I’ve never killed anyone. But I was being honest before. I don’t care about the money. I just thought you needed Iggy’s help to get away, and wouldn’t get it without the stash.”

“If you kill my dad and Iggy finds out, he’ll hunt you until one or both of you die, but if I have the stash I can probably convince him to turn on my dad. As long as Mandy tells him the truth about what dad’s been doing to her.”

Ian frowned. “You think she’d lie?”

Mickey shrugged. “Not a question of lying. I think she might just. Like if she doesn’t admit it it won’t be true, you know? And she won’t look at me. Why would she voluntarily tell Iggy something she’s already ashamed of me knowing?”

“I don’t know,” Ian said. He hadn’t ever told his siblings that he liked men, his only so-called shameful secret. Some would say both Ian and Mandy should be ashamed of their secret, but Ian couldn’t help but think that neither of them should feel shame. The only one committing a shameful act was Mickey’s father. 

“So is that the whole plan?” Mickey asked.

Ian thought back to what he’d said before. “No. Then when Iggy’s on your side, you and Iggy subdue your dad or hold a gun on him, tie him up and take the money.”

“Tie him up?” 

“Well, I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this part. But what if you give him to the authorities in exchange for giving up your life of crime and maybe get a pardon in return?”

Mickey scoffed. “I’m not sure they’d make that deal, but even if they would, pretty sure Iggy wouldn’t snitch. I would. No one’s going to hang him for doing what he did to Mandy, pretty sure, not without her testifying, but I’d turn him in as a bank robber if that meant they accidentally punish him for that shit.”

“Would you stop your outlaw ways if you could?” Ian asked cautiously.

Mickey shook his head and flicked his lip with his thumb. “Man, I told you I wouldn’t do that shit anymore if my dad didn’t make me. But it’s not just up to me. I’ll have to decide that part of the plan when I talk to my brother and sister. What about your gun? You say your shooting is up to the task, but what about your gun?”

Ian patted his saddlebag. “I have a rifle. I wrap it so people don’t see it and assume I’m a fighter when I’m going to a new place. It’s not specifically a sniper rifle, but it’ll do the trick. I’m assuming you’re not going to set me up a mile away from the camp.”

Mickey tilted his head back and forth, apparently thinking. “Probably about six hundred yards?”

“Easy,” Ian said. It helped that he wasn’t trying to hit a precise target at that distance, but rather firing shots to scare Terry. He had to have enough accuracy to not hit them, but otherwise he could shoot wherever he liked. 

Mickey turned his horse onto a barely noticeable trail and Ian followed, noting that they were headed uphill and out of the desert valley. 

After half an hour of twists and turns, Ian wasn’t sure if the circuitous route they had taken into the mountains was just the only way to get there or if Mickey was trying to make sure Ian couldn’t find his way back on his own. If it was the later, he needn’t bother. Ian wasn’t the best at retracing his steps or finding his way, although it seemed Mickey had a pretty firm grasp on how bad at being a cowboy Ian actually was. Somehow he’d caught on to that a lot faster than some of Ian’s employers had, although it was often other things that had contributed to him being let go, like an extended glum mood or his tendency to be over excitable. He supposed either way he was lucky Mickey hadn’t done something like blindfold him for the journey. That must mean that Mickey trusted him. 

Ian hoped so. He found himself trusting Mickey much more than he likely should after such a short acquaintance—especially since Mickey was an outlaw. But Ian believed Mickey’s words more than his reputation. He believed that Mickey didn’t want to be an outlaw, and that he hated his father. But could Mickey really be expected to turn on his own father? The issues with Mandy made betraying a father easier to imagine, but when it came right down to it, would Mickey be able to do it? If he went through with it, would he regret it? Ian had a complicated relationship with his own father and he knew what it was like to hate a man and love him at the same time. Since the Milk Gang were all outlaws, Terry had probably constructed an idea around them that it was ‘them against the world’. Ian hoped they were doing the right thing by trying to get the other children to join them. 

Ian stopped his horse and shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand. “How far is the camp?” 

They couldn’t see much from their vantage point—the desert scrub was blocking the view from all sides, but they had been steadily climbing uphill. 

Mickey wiped some sweat off his face and reached into his saddle back. He took out a canteen and took a drink. “Just a little further. There’s a view a bit further up that shows this side of the valley—but the camp is on the other side of the mountain.” 

“So you want me to stay at the top and wait for you to get into camp? Are you going to sneak in and try to spy on what your dad does without them knowing, or are you going to walk in and then I shoot?” 

Mickey frowned. “If I walk in and then you start shooting, my dad’ll think that the posse followed me into the camp. If he’s convinced that’s what happened, he might shoot me on the spot for being careless.” 

Ian felt his heartbeat race. “If it looks like he’s going to shoot you, I’m going to shoot him in the face, Mick.” 

Mickey shot him a wary look. “What if I go into the camp, and then after an hour or so, you start shooting? That way the posse following me might not be the first thing they think. After all, we’ve had other hideouts discovered in the past. It’s not impossible that someone gets out a map and looks for old settlements that were abandoned.” 

Ian recognized the look on Mickey’s face. He was wary of Ian now, because of the way he’d acted with the posse member who’d found the cave. He didn’t like it, but it couldn’t be helped. He tried to lighten the mood. “You can’t ride into a plan like this with an unlucky horse. What are you calling her?”

Mickey smiled faintly, though he looked even paler than usual. He must be worried about going up against his father. Maybe even worried his siblings wouldn’t take his side against their father. “Sheba.”

Ian laughed. “I like it. Can we stop at this view? I just want…” to kiss Mickey one more time before jumping into this dangerous shit—but he didn’t know how to say it. 

Mickey nodded, whether he guessed the reason or because he had his own reasons for wanting to delay getting back. They kept going, and Mickey turned down a small path and dismounted. 

Ian slid off his horse and wrapped the reins around a tree as he had seen Mickey do, then followed the shorter boy through a few shrubs. Through the shrubs was a clearing, and then passed the rocks an expansive view of rolling yellow hills that was more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. It was a silent, lonely beauty, different from anything he’d seen back east. The sun was a third of the way to the horizon—it would be hours before dusk. Mickey handed Ian his canteen and Ian took a long drink of water. 

“You take me the nicest places,” Ian said. 

Mickey put a hand on the side of Ian’s cheek. “You really want to do this? We could die. My dad is not going to fuck around about something like this. I’m not. I’m not worth you risking a fucking hang nail, man.”

Ian leaned over and kissed Mickey, and this time Mickey didn’t pull back. They kissed with the desperation of those who know a kiss might be their last, all teeth and tongue and hanging on too tightly to each other. 

Ian pulled away far enough to lean his forehead against Mickey’s and closed his eyes. “You are worth it. I’d do anything for you. I don’t know how this shit happened so fast, but I want you with me. If I have to take on a band of outlaws to have you, that’s what I’m going to do.”

“We can’t even be together. Not long term. What are we going to tell people? We’re just really good friends and that’s why we share a place?”

Ian laughed, too delighted that Mickey wanted to live with him to worry about the issue he was raising. “We can tell people we’re brothers. Those weird bachelor brothers who live together.”

Mickey pulled back. “I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than being weirdly close good friends.” 

“No one would even think about it. You’re supposed to love your brother. No one would see us kiss or anything. They’d just see that we care about each other.”

Mickey laughed. “It’s still a fucking weird cover story to have at the tip of your tongue, man.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

They led their horses to the main path, then someone stepped out in front of them and pointed a shotgun at Ian’s chest and said, “Stop right the fuck there.”

Ian stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Although Bipolar was a recognized condition at the time (though not known by that name), Ian has no idea his condition has a name or what it is.


	6. Chapter 6

Mickey moved in front of Ian and put up his hands. “Put the gun down, Mandy.”

Mandy’s eyes shifted between Mickey and Ian. “What did he do? Did he take you prisoner? Why are you bringing a stranger here?”

Mickey walked over and pushed the barrel of the gun towards the ground, unable to bear seeing her point it at Ian any longer. “He’s a friend, okay?”

Mandy’s eyes narrowed , but she let the gun fall to her side . “Since when do you have a friend? Since when do you even know how to make friends?”

“Fuck off,” Mickey said. He glanced at Ian. Ian stood stalk-still, an assessing look in his eye s . Probably trying to figure out if he could convince Mandy to trust him the way he’d convinced Mickey. Well, hopefully not exactly the same way. Mickey stepped closer to Mandy. “Look, Mands, Ian’s going to help us.”

“Help us with what? Our gang doesn’t take recruits, Mick.  Dad’ll freak.” 

Mickey glanced at Ian. He’d never be able to talk to Mandy about what he’d seen Terry do to her with Ian standing right there—but at least Mandy was looking at him in the eye. “Ian, can you go back there, to the cliff, just for a minute? I need to talk to Mandy about something.”

Ian nodded and led his horse back  the way they’d came. 

Mandy l eaned the gun against a nearby tree and then stepped close r to Mickey and spoke in a whisper-shout. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You know dad doesn’t like outsiders. Does that kid know you’re a wanted man?”

“Ian’s my friend, Mandy, and we got a plan. A plan to get all of us away from dad—or maybe turn dad into the law.”

“What? How could you even say that? You know what  dad’d do if he heard you talking about talking to the law ? What Iggy would do ? ”

“We can’t go on the way we’ve been. Mandy, I know what he does to you . I know—"

Mandy’s eyes widened and her mouth flattened into a straight line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t even know. You fucking. You misunderstood, okay? Nothing is going on. I’m fine.”

Mickey shook his head. “I know what I saw. I know he fucked you and you were terrified. It’s disgusting. A man using his own daughter that way . ”

“Fuck. You. You didn’t see what you think you saw. I promise you.” Mandy crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with anger. But there was a vulnerability to the set of her shoulders Mickey didn’t remember ever seeing before. 

Mickey sighed. He didn’t know how to get her to believe he was on her side, and that it was okay to tell him the truth.  Finally he realized there was really only one thing he could say to make him as vulnerable as she felt, to put them on equal footing. He just hoped she still loved him afterwards . “Look, you think you’re some bad person because of what happened with dad. That you  gotta be ashamed. But that’s not true. Even if it is, I’m a freak, too.”

Mandy looked up. “He  do something to you? Other than use you a s a  punching bag?”

Mickey glanced at his hands and realized they were shaking, then crossed his arms abruptly. “No.  Nothing he did. I’ve always been like this. I like guys. That dude Ian...I’m into him. We had sex. I care —he's my fella.”

Mandy took a step back. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. We just met but he’s--he’s better than anyone I’ve ever met. He’s like, smart, and strong, and he wants to help us. H e’s way sweeter than any dude has any right to be. H e came up with a plan to get the stash away from dad and turn him in in exchange for pardons for the rest of us. What the fuck has dad ever done for us, Mands, except use us? You remember Colin and Joey, right? He sent them right into danger and they’re dead now.  I can’t help but think that he left me behind in that town because he wants me dead, too.  He uses you for shit a man shouldn’t use his daughter for. He doesn’t deserve our loyalty.”

Mandy crossed her arms.  “Why did you tell me that? About Ian.”

“Because I know you feel ashamed. And if anyone knew about me and Ian, they’d probably judge us a lot more harshly than they’d judge you if they knew about your secret . So you can admit what’s been going on. You can just say it. If you tell Iggy, and we know where the stash is, I know we can get him to help us go up against dad.”

Mandy’s face softened into a sweet, faded smile. “You really found someone who cares about you? Someone who doesn’t mind that you’re an outlaw from a family of criminals? ”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I think he might have found it kind of attractive at first. He’s a bit of a dope.” 

Mandy punched his shoulder lightly. “Then he’s perfect for you.”

Mickey let out a long breath. He couldn’t believe his sister seemed to be okay with his—with Ian. It didn’t make any sense. But then it’s not  like their family cared what churches said or what people in towns thought was normal —not that Terry would be as accepting. Mickey was certain of that . But he felt his sister’s love wash through him and felt warmed by it for the first time in years. 

“You really want to take on dad?” Mandy asked, her voice full of wonder. 

Mickey nodded. “I can only do it with your help. I almost—Ian asked me to just run with him. Pretend I died coming home. Dad might not even look for me. But I couldn’t without getting you out. If you really want me to let this go, I can leave right now with Ian. If you’re scared to take on dad, I only ask that you don’t let him know that you saw us.”

Mandy threw  her arms a round Mickey and squeezed him tightly. “I guess you’re not a shitty brother after all.” 

Mickey shook his head. “Jesus. That’s the thanks I get? Come on, let me introduce you to Ian. He can tell you his plan. That is, if you want in.”

Mandy’s eyes filled with tears. “I want in. I didn’t want to hope, you know?  If you just convince yourself there’s nothing better maybe things don’t seem that bad. But if we could really leave, really make a life for ourselves without dad,  I want in.”

Mickey nodded. He knew exactly how she felt. “Okay. I’ll go get Ian and he can tell you the plan.”

Mandy smiled, a devious look on her face. “No, you just wait here. I want to get to know this man of yours. Make sure he’s good enough for you.”

Mickey took a step forward. “No Mandy, I can—" he started to say, but she was already gone. God knew what the two of them would get up to together. He had a feeling they’d get along with each other, and he didn’t like the idea of them ganging up on him for the rest of his life. His cheeks heated and he raised a hand to his face, hoping he wasn’t blushing. It’s not like anyone knew why he was blushing or even that anyone was around to see, but he’d got in the habit of thinking and talking about Ian like they were going to be together forever. Ian didn’t seem to mind—in fact the look on his face had just gone extra-dopey the last time he’d let something like that slip—but he needed to get over his family shit before he could worry about stupid shit like blushing about wanting to stay with Ian for a while. Maybe for a long time. 

When Mandy and Ian came back, the three of them formalized their plans. Because of the delay running into Mandy had caused, they decided that they should wait until the morning for Ian to start shooting his gun. Mandy and Mickey would talk to Iggy that night and try to get him on board. Terry had a habit of going to the stable sometime in mid-morning to feed his horse special feed he’d bought, so that was the signal Ian would use to get shooting. Ian would stop shooting to give Terry the opportunity to go find the stash, and Mickey would follow him to grab it if he could—if not, they’d get it when Mickey and Iggy cornered him and tied him up. 

“What if he doesn’t go for the stash?” Ian asked. 

Mickey shrugged. “It’s Iggy who really cares about the stash. I’m betting Terry’s spent most of our money on whores and drink. If Terry doesn’t go for the stash, I guess it’ll be up to Iggy to let it go or to try to persuade forcefully to get him to tell us.”

Mandy frowned. “You really think Iggy would torture our dad? Do you even think that’d work?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “No one is strong enough to withstand torture indefinitely, not even Terry. But I don’t know. I guess we have to hope that he’s convinced by Ian’s shooting that we’ll have to abandon the camp, and greedy enough to go for the stash over getting out fast. Who knows? He might have left it with someone in one of the towns around here, or buried it out in the desert. No plan is perfect. And I thought you didn’t care about the stash, Ian.”

Ian crossed his arms and his eyebrows drew together. “I don’t. You said Iggy would. I told you I don’t care about the money. I care about you. I don’t know how many  wa ys I have to say  it. ”

Mandy punched  Ian . “Relax man, you’ve known  each other for like two days. He’s allowed to question your motives. And Mickey,” here she paused and smacked Mickey quite a bit harder than she’d punched Ian, “this kid’s not kissing you and staring at you with heart-shaped moon-eyes because he wants a couple of bucks from our dad’s cruddy old cigar box. There are easier ways to get money than robbing outlaw gangs.” 

Mickey and Ian looked at each other sheepishly and then Ian grinned. “Sorry Mom,” he said. 

“Men are stupid,” Mandy said. She walked over to the tree her gun leaned against, picked it up, shouldered it, and started up the trail. “I’ll leave you to your sappy goodbyes. I don’t need to see that shit.”

Mickey watched her go for a minute, and then turned to Ian. “You know the way to the trail?”

Ian nodded. “Mandy gives  much better directions than you do.”

“If you believe what she says she does most things better than me.” 

Ian laughed, then placed a hand on Mickey’s shoulder. He pulled Mickey closer. “Be careful, Mick. I just found you. I don’t want to lose you.” 

Mickey put his arms around Ian, leaned in and gave Ian the kiss he was clearly looking for, then pulled him in tighter for a hug. “I’ll never let you go. Not if I can help it. Sorry about before.”

Ian’s breath huffed against  Mickey’s neck in a laugh. “I’m sorry too. Never felt like this. You make me crazy when I think I could lose you. We just have to get through this and we can be together.”

“I can change my name and we can go somewhere far away from here. We can travel around and go wherever we want.”

Ian grinned. “I’ve heard good things about San Francisco. We can just be two brothers trying to find work.”

Mickey rolled his eyes at the  brothers thing and shook his head. “Kiss me again.”

Ian kissed him, and then they parted ways and Mickey and his horse followed Mandy up the trail. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that Mickey rolls his eyes too much. I just couldn't stop him :)


	7. Chapter 7

Ian  found the overlook that Mandy had told him about and, after taking care of his horse, set up camp. It wasn’t much of a camp because he couldn’t light a fire and he didn’t even have anything to eat, but hopefully tomorrow he could get some food from Mickey and his sister. 

Ian liked Mandy. She was a beautiful girl—and tough as nails. She remined him of Fiona, only sadder and more damaged. Fiona had been through a lot in her life— many different  circumstances that hurt or changed her. It said a lot that from what Ian had heard the only problem Mandy had had to endure had been her father, and he had done so much more damage than a lifetime of challenges had done to Fiona. It had never occurred to Ian to think of his family as lucky before he met Mickey and Mandy, but he did. 

Ian snuggled into the covers, his stomach growling with hunger. He’d been hungry  often  enough to know sometimes  having a slightly empty stomach helped you sleep better , but being this hungry didn’t have any positives . 

Ian didn’t sleep fitfully. He woke up several times during the night because he was cold, and, if he was honest, because he was missing Mickey like a phantom limb. He knew Mickey would probably freak if he knew that Ian was having trouble sleeping without him, and tried to tell himself it was the warm th that had  made  their short time sleeping on the same bed roll  feel  like the best sleep of his life. 

Though what was more telling about how fast Ian had let himself fall for Mickey, the fact that he missed sleeping beside him or the fact that he was risking his life by taking on an outlaw gang?  Not only that, but he was t aking for granted that Mickey and Mandy could persuade their brother to get on board with their plans, or that the three of them together had the will and ability to take on their father. 

In the morning Ian went back to the path where he’d left his horse tied, afraid to risk him wandering off and somehow warning Terry of his presence. He got out his rifle and some gun oil, and a few crumbs of jerky from an empty bag that provided a little energy. He took the rifle back to the camp and cleaned it. Needed it in perfect working order if he was going to pull off the plan. 

He was just reloading his gun when he heard another gun being cocked in his ear. “Drop it.”

Ian turned his head to look behind him. The man—maybe more of a boy—was blond and around Mickey’s age. He’d never seen Iggy before but it was a fair bet that this was him. “Iggy?” he asked. 

The man’s grabbed on to Ian’s hair and pushed the butt of his pistol against his head with his other hand . “Drop it now. How do you know my name?”

Ian hastily dropped his gun. Something must have happened to prevent Mickey from telling Iggy about the plan. That was the only thing that made sense. Ian wouldn’t be able to persuade Iggy himself—Mickey had been convinced Iggy would be loyal unless he knew about their father’s actions with Mandy.  So what should he do?

Iggy let go of his hair. “Stand up.”

Ian stood. He stared at the hand gun the boy still pointed at his chest. 

“How did you know my name?”

Ian said a brief prayer  in his head that  this would work. “I’m Mickey’s friend. He asked me to come and help him with something.”

“With what?” Iggy asked. He pushed the butt of the gun into Ian’s chest. 

“He. He wanted me to—to shoot some rounds above everyone in the camp’s heads to persuade your dad that it’s time to move on. He’s pretty sure the posse is going to catch up with him but he didn’t think your dad would believe him.”

Iggy’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Who are you?”

“Like I said, I’m Mickey’s friend. He. He said it would mean a few dollars for me if I did this job for him. I need the money.”

Iggy shook his head. “Mickey is a lot of things, but sneaky  ain’t one of them. I oughta shoot you where you stand.”

Ian thought Iggy was probably right. Mickey wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t a Machiavellian plotter, either. If he thought his family should move their hideout, he’d probably rant about it until everyone was too annoyed to listen anymore. “I don’t know how to convince you. But Mickey won’t be happy if you kill me. I swear.”

“ So you want me to just leave you here in an elevated position with a rifle and go back to camp where you can shoot me and my whole family?” Iggy laughed harshly.

“I mean...you could just not shoot me. Take my gun. I’ll go on my way.” It would suck to leave Mickey behind, but he wouldn’t be any good to anyone if he was dead.

“I got a better idea,” Iggy said. He leaned down and picked up  Ian’s rifle and hoisted it on his shoulder, never  pointing his gun away from Ian. “You lead your horse into camp, and we ask my dad what I should do.”

Ian felt a swoop of adrenaline. How had everything gone so wrong? He might end up getting Mickey killed with a few careless words to his brother. “Please, don’t tell your dad what I said about shooting the gun. Just tell him you found me and I looked suspicious. Even tell him I was set up overlooking the camp with a rifle. Just don’t tell him I know Mickey.”

Iggy frowned. “Why not?”

Ian struggled against tears. An outlaw like Iggy wouldn’t respect a man who cried but the situation was getting so far out of hand he couldn’t get a handle on his emotions. “Because you know your dad is going to react badly. Just talk to Mickey about it privately. Didn’t you get to talk to him last night?”

Iggy rolled his eyes. “Imagine an outlaw—or hell, anyone—reacting badly to someone planning on attacking their camp.”

“Just. Just please. Please don’t put Mickey in danger.”

Iggy’s face changed in some subtle way, and Ian wasn’t sure what it meant. Had Ian revealed too much about how deeply he cared about Mickey? Mickey wouldn’t thank him for it. He had the feeling Mickey had never intended to tell his brother the truth about that part of himself, just like Ian never intended to tell his family. Some burdens are not made lighter when they are shared. 

Iggy pointed the gun down the path. “Go on. Untie your horse.”

Ian did as he was told and lead the horse into the camp.  Iggy walked Ian into the  barn, refusing to engage further in conversation. In a stall in the barn Ian was shocked to see there were actual chains and manacles. Ian allowed Iggy to secure his hands in the manacles—he didn’t want to risk hurting Mickey’s brother by trying to escape—and tried not to think about why they had chains in the barn. Was it for when Terry felt the boys had misbehaved? Were they there because of some slavery-era past that didn’t involve the Milk Gang at all? Did they take hostages and chain them up? 

Ian allowed himself to think about the shit storm he was probably about to face. Mickey had said he wasn’t strong enough to fight back against his father. He’d said it was a bad idea, and he’d only agreed to it because Ian had a plan. Now there was no plan, and Ian was in more danger than Mickey was. And he’d probably put Mickey in danger by running his mouth with Iggy. And maybe outed Mickey to Iggy, which might make him murder Mickey. 

The despair that welled up in Ian’s chest felt worse than any he’d felt before. Ian took a shuddering breath and hot tears rolled down his cheeks. Even at his lowest depths of glum, he’d still only felt responsible for his own misfortunes. He was a fool to have thought he was fit to be someone’s lover. He couldn’t take care of himself, let alone come up with a reasonable way to take care of someone else.

A small voice whispered that Iggy seeing Ian before talking to Mickey was just bad luck, and Mandy had been fine with Mickey being with Ian so maybe Iggy would be too. And even if he wasn’t, he probably wouldn’t be okay with Terry assaulting his sister. Maybe things could still be okay if he just trusted that Mickey and Mandy could handle the change in plan. They were outlaws. They had to be able to think on their feet, right?

It was hard to tell himself he was perfectly safe in their hands, however, when they were outlaws, and he’d only known Mickey a couple of days. A couple of really good days, but he didn’t know the guy. He seemed sweet, but for all Ian knew, he was the tenth boyfriend of Mickey’s who’d ended up chained up in the barn.

Ian’s sob turned into a laugh. Even his despair wouldn’t truly let him believe that. Mickey cared about him. He was sure of that. It just remained to be seen if he cared enough about him to risk his father’s displeasure—probably his own life—to save him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t remember anything about Iggy from the show and so his behavior might be OOC. I know in fics he is usually portrayed as being flaky and stupid, but he’s kind of smart in this. Was he even in the show enough for us to know if it is OOC? I haven’t watched anything but YouTube videos of just Gallovich stuff in so long that I don’t even know.


	8. Chapter 8

When he got to the camp the previous night,  Mickey went to the stable first. It was a stolen horse, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t take care of it. His father had views on how to steal a horse, and he might decide that it was too risky to keep her or her tack, but she needed to be brushed down and fed. Tomorrow he might have to slap her rump and let her send her off into the desert—or if they made a deal with the townsfolk, maybe return her to her owner, assuming someone found him—but for right now she was his. 

When he walked into the abandoned cabin they had been squatting in, it looked  dec eivably cheery. There was food bubbling on the stove, and Mickey’s stomach growled. He thought of the apples still in his pack and wished he’d remembered to give them to Ian.

Terry sat by the fire smoking his pipe, and Mandy had beat him inside and was already portioning out stew for the two of them. 

“Where’s Iggy?” Mickey asked.

Terry looked up sluggishly. Mickey recognized the man must have been drinking. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

Mickey took a deep breath. He didn’t want to piss off his dad. He didn’t want to get beat up and be unable to do his part when the plan started in the morning, and well, he never wanted to get beat up. He crossed his arms on his chest and tried to keep his expression neutral. “I met up with Mandy on her patrols. Just got back from the bank job. Went to ground and waited  til the heat died down to come back here.”

Terry’s eyes narrowed. “No one saw you? You didn’t get caught and lead them back here in return for a pardon?”

Mickey tried not to look as though that was the best idea he’d ever heard. It beat Ian’s idea, although Mandy and Iggy might have died in the crossfire, so it was unacceptable. “Seriously, dad? Like I’d do that. I was in that cave that Iggy found. No one saw me.”

He looked around the small, sparsely decorated cabin again, exchanging a glance with Mandy. “Did Iggy go somewhere?”

Terry took a drink from his bottle of gin. “He took off. Went to see if you were on the road somewhere. I told him if you were too useless to pull a bank job without getting caught you didn’t deserve to be in the gang.”

“Mickey didn’t get caught,” Mandy said, “He’s right here, not hanging by the neck or turning anyone in.”

Mandy and Mickey exchanged a look. Iggy was a bit weird. He liked to go off alone and sleep under the stars. He might not come back at all that night. Or he might come back late. What the hell would they do if Ian started shooting and they hadn’t had a chance to warn Iggy, or get him on their side? 

Mickey didn’t sleep well that night. He tossed and turned, trying to sleep lightly so that he could hear his brother’s footfall. When he realized Iggy didn’t come home at all, Mickey wished he’d snuck off and talked to Ian. He could have brought him some food and put the plan off for a day. He should have never let Ian talk him into this.

By morning he was convinced that he needed to go tell Ian, and he grabbed some food to do just that. 

His dad stood in the kitchen in nothing but his night pants. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Mickey froze. “I  gotta go see to the horse I stole.”

His dad did a doubletake. “You stole a horse?”

“Yeah I stole a horse. How’d you think I got here so fast?” Mickey said. As usual, his mouth ran a lot faster than his brain. 

His father slammed a fist against the counter. “What did I tell you about stealing horses? They can’t prove we’re the bank robbers because we cover our faces. But a horse can be identified. And we can’t sell a stolen horse.”

Mickey nearly rolled his eyes. There were wanted posters with their pictures all over but yeah, no one could identify them. His father was deluded—but he managed not to say that out loud. “What did you think I was going to do with it? I’m going to take it to the  other side  of the hill and let it go.” This was the story he’d come up with in the night to give him a reason to go talk to Ian. He hadn’t thought he’d really need a story, because his dad was never up this early, but he was glad he’d thought of something to say.

Terry opened his mouth to reply when Iggy walked through the door. Mickey breathed out in relief. There was still time to salvage the plan. 

“You’re up early,” Iggy said to their dad.

“Why do the two of you suddenly give a fuck when I get up? Is there something going on that I should know about?” Terry took a drink of coffee and glared at Iggy.

Iggy looked intently at Mickey, like he was trying to tell him something, but Mickey had no idea what it could be. Eventually he shrugged and said, “I found a dude out there on the way here. Skulking around. I chained him up in the barn.”

Mickey tried to school his reaction, but he didn’t imagine it worked. How was he supposed to keep the devastation from his face? Ian had nothing to do with their fucked-up life, and he was going to pay the price. Mickey would do almost anything to save him, but even  if he did everything in his power he might fail. He’d failed to protect his sister from his father, and Iggy had failed to protect Mickey. 

Terry shoved Iggy on his way out the door, saying, “Why didn’t you fucking say that first thing?”

Mickey moved to follow, and Iggy grabbed him. “Wait.”

“What?” Mickey asked, trying to pull away from Iggy’s grasp.

“You really know the guy, don’t you?”

Mickey opened his mouth to answer, but then Mandy walked out of her room, rubbing her nose with a too long sleeve that hung over her hands. “What is everyone yelling about? It’s really fucking early.”

Mickey said nothing, but stopped hiding the worry on his face. 

Iggy’s forehead creased. “Shit, you really know that guy, don’t you? You wanted to scare us off to get dad to move camp, for real?”

Mandy frowned. “What the fuck?”

Mickey wrenched his arm out of Iggy’s grasp. “That’s not exactly how it was supposed to go. But I do know him, and I’ll tell you everything. Just let me go so I can go make sure dad doesn’t kill him.”

Mandy moved to the door and held up her arms to stop Mickey. “Let me go. You’ll fuck it up. You tell  Igs , I’ll make sure dad doesn’t kill Ian.”

“Tell him what?” Mickey gave her a significant look. He wanted to know if it was okay if he told Iggy about what Terry did to her. 

She nodded. “Like I want to be the one to say the words. Tell him everything. And Iggy, he’s not fucking lying, okay?” Mandy hurried out the door.

“What the fuck? You brought a stranger here, and you and Mandy are keeping secrets from me?” Iggy crossed his arms on his chest and scowled.

“Look, just before that last bank job that went wrong, I woke up in the middle of the night and saw...I saw dad fucking Mandy. Her face. It was frozen and so horrified. It’s not right. Dad saw that that I saw. I think that’s why he left me behind. Left me for dead.”

Iggy’s expression was disgusted. “Mickey...”

“Don’t even say it. I didn’t want it to be true, either. But it is. The real plan was to tell you everything and get you on board last night, and then Ian was going to cause a distraction and get dad to think that the posse found us, so he’d grab the stash and then we could steal it from him. Then we could either steal it and get away, or turn him in to the townsfolk in return for pardons.”

“You think they’d actually give us pardons if we turned him in?”

Mickey was flabbergasted. He’d never expected Iggy would be that easy to convince—but then that question didn’t mean he was convinced, did it? “I don’t know. We’d have to send someone to talk to them for us. Ian could probably do it. He could convince anyone of anything. He convinced me to take on dad.”

Iggy shook his head. “Who is this guy to you? Why do you trust him so much? When did you even meet him?”

Mickey didn’t know what to say. Mandy had accepted his nature without much drama, but that didn’t mean Iggy would react the same. They’d all been raised to a steady stream of speeches about wimps and sissies and taught that there was nothing worse than being that way, but they’d never actually discussed the possibility of someone liking the same sex in a sexual way. No one really talked about that outside of the pulpit, and the  Milkoviches didn’t go to church. Mickey had always felt alone until he’d met Ian because he’d never heard of anyone like him. But then how could he just say he met the guy a few days ago and decided to trust him with all of their lives? His actions only made sense if he admitted he loved Ian. 

Mickey decided that if Iggy told his dad, at least he’d die with Ian. “I met him a couple of days ago. I fell in love with him. He loves me too. He convinced me I’m good enough to have a life away from dad. That we all are. If we can get him free...I’d die for that. We need to save him.” 

Iggy stood still, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. Before he could respond to Mickey, Terry walked in.

Terry grunted and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. “Mandy’s soft heart is going to be the death of us.”

“She  want to let that guy go?” Iggy asked. 

“Fuck no. I said her heart was soft, not her head. She wants to keep him around to do some of the work she gets stuck with.”

Mickey tried not to seem  too excited about the idea. “She does have to do a lot of shit jobs the rest of us don’t have to do.”

Terry grunted, poured the whiskey in a glass and took a quick pull. “Women’s work. But it wouldn’t hurt to try him. See if he’s a good worker. We need to find out what he knows, first, though.”

Mickey waited for Iggy to say something. Now would be the time to tell Terry everything he knew about Mickey and Ian. Iggy gave Mickey an unreadable look and started making himself breakfast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am planning on doing Nanowrimo (with an original novel, not with a fanfic) so naturally I'm brimming with fanfic ideas. Anyone want to write a fic about Mickey getting paroled and working as a receptionist in a garage owned by lesbian mechanics? I want this fic.


	9. Chapter 9

Ian looked up as the short, stocky older man he assumed was Terry walked back into the barn. He still had a shotgun leaning on his shoulder though he’d put a plaid shirt on over his undershirt. His suspenders hung down to his knees and his face held a sneer.

“Why did the town send you here?” Terry asked.

Ian blinked. Even if he told the truth he’d probably end up being tortured. He wanted to tell the truth but there was no way he could tell the man he was in love with his son. It only took a glance at Terry to know that was a bad idea. Finally he said, “What town?”

Terry took the shotgun from his shoulder and let it point at the floor. “Jerico. That’s where you come from, isn’t it?”

Ian shook his head, maybe just a bit too quickly. “I had just got there the day of the bank robbery. I didn’t know anyone. I just stopped to try to find work at a ranch but I’d only put my name out for positions. I didn’t even know the name of the town. I ain’t loyal to them. No one sent me here.”

“So why did you come here then?” Terry asked.

That was a really good question. There was no reason he could think of that made sense unless he was in league with Mickey or the town. Unless… “I saw what you did. I saw how the town scrambled and couldn’t keep up with your amazing gang. I saw Mickey and I followed him here because I wanted to join your gang. I ain’t never seen outlaws in action before.”

“Mickey. That boy needs a beat down for his carelessness.”

Iggy walked in behind Terry and looked over his shoulder. “I dunno. Why can’t he join up? Just cause he followed Mickey don’t mean he’d be a bad gang member. Means he’s smart, cause no one else has ever been able to do it. Mickey’s as good as you at stopping people trailing him and you know it, dad. And Mandy said she’d like someone to push around.”

Terry rolled his eyes. “Fine. But you make sure he’s not in league with the town folk or anyone else.”

Terry walked out, and even though Ian was still in danger it was like he could take a deep breath for the first time since Terry had walked in. At least the first time he’d seen Terry Mandy had been with him, so he’d known she at least was on his side. He wasn’t sure what side Iggy was on, although it seemed like from what he’d said he was on his and Mickey’s.

Iggy squatted and looked Ian in the eye. “Mickey’s in there shitting himself because he’s not sure I’m going to still love him since he got a boyfriend. What kind of brother would think that of his brother?”

Ian glared. “What kind of brother would leave his brother thinking he wouldn’t love him for any longer than necessary?”

Iggy grinned and started rolling a cigarette. “It’s kind of funny, though.”

“You think it was easy for Mickey to tell you and Mandy about us? I would never tell my family, and they’re not murderous outlaws. They’re just normal people. Mickey’s the bravest man I know. He doesn’t deserve this bullshit from you.” Ian pulled against the chains in anger.

Iggy’s grin turned into a sincere smile. “You really love him, don’t you?”

Ian signed and stopped tugging on the chains. It would only cut his wrists. “Yeah. I do. You don’t know what it’s like, being so different from everyone else. And then there’s someone who gets you. Who’s like you, and isn’t ashamed. Who’s strong and brave and handsome…I didn’t stand a chance.”

“Well, everything is a mess. That’s what I know. Dad wants you to join the gang as some kind of slave, Mickey wants to break you out even if dad kills him, you want to turn dad into the townspeople for pardons, I want the stash, and Mandy wants to get away from dad. How do we make even half of what we want come true?”

Ian frowned. “How about you let me go, and I go to the townsfolk and negotiate you turning your father in? They won’t shoot me on sight like they would any of you.”

“None of them know about Mandy. She never comes with us when we pull a job. We could send her. And she’d be away from dad for the time she was away.”

Plus, Iggy trusted Mandy, and he probably didn’t fully trust Ian. It made sense. “What about the stash? I bet if your dad got caught, especially if he was turned in by you lot, he’d be happy to just have it hidden forever out of spite. How do we get it?”

Iggy squinted. “Your original idea was to shoot into the camp and make it seem like we were under attack, right? So what if we let you go, Mandy goes to the town’s folk to talk, and then you shoot up the camp? Mickey and I can subdue dad and tie him up, and then the town will give us all pardons.”

“You think they’d really agree to that?” Ian asked.

“If not, we just take the stash and run.”

Iggy rose.

Ian had a flash of inspiration and tried to put up a hand to get him to wait and then remembered his hands were chained. “Wait!”

Iggy frowned. “What?”

“Do you know what the stash looks like?”

“Yeah, it’s in an old tobacco can. A red box.”

“Well, how about me and Mandy go to the town together, and you tell your dad that you saw me and Mandy running away with a red tobacco box. Does he know you know it’s the stash?”

Iggy smiled. “No, he doesn’t. But the second he hears you and Mandy have it, the first thing he’s going to do is go check and make sure it’s still there.”

“Right. And this way I can go with Mandy and make sure she’s safe. I know she’s probably tougher than me I but I’d feel better if she wasn’t travelling alone.”

“Mickey has that horse he stole still. He’s supposed to go to the bottom of the mountain and let it loose. I’ll have him tie it at the overlook where he found you instead.”

Ian nodded. “Smart thinking. That means we have to get going with this plan fast, though, because we can’t leave a horse tied indefinitely.”

Iggy rolled his eyes. “Trust me. The longer you’re here the more likely it is that this’ll all go wrong. I guess I’ll go put Mickey out of his misery and tell him I still love him.”

“Thank you. But shouldn’t you…rough me up a little?”

Iggy’s face fell. “Shit, I forgot I was supposed to be torturing you. Okay, I’m going to punch you some, and you’ve got to yell and shout, okay?”

Iggy kept his punches mostly to Ian’s face—likely because a punch to the stomach would do damage but wouldn’t prove anything to Terry so what was the point. Ian shouted and screamed as loudly as he could, although he’d been beaten worse by his brother Lip over his opinion of one of Lip’s annoying girlfriends.

Mickey burst in the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” he said.

Iggy pulled back. “I had to make it convincing, otherwise dad’ll never be convinced I got the whole story.”

Mickey’s look was pained. “So you…you want…”

“Of course I want to help you. You’re still my brother. No confession is going to make me turn my back on you.”

Mickey nearly smiled, but not quite. He looked at Ian. “You okay?”

Ian smiled, though he could tell his face was wet with blood. “Yeah. Your brother was pulling his punches. I’ve had worse.”

“See? I wouldn’t hurt him. I like him. He came up with some really smart plans I need to talk to you about.”

Mickey gave Ian a glance that was pure heat and made Ian’s dick twitch despite the fact that he was tied up and in chains. “Yeah, he does that.”

Iggy raised both hands defensively and took a step back. “Could you two stop with the eye fucking while I’m in the room? If I’m ever in a three way it’s not going to be with two guys, one of whom is my brother.”

Mickey’s look lost some of its heat but stayed as affectionate as ever.

“I guess I should leave the two of you alone to whisper your ‘I love yous’ to each other,” Iggy said, chuckling indulgently.

Mickey went red and started mumbling something incoherent, and Ian looked up at him. “Do you really love me?”

Iggy’s eyebrows looked like they were trying to make friends with his hairline. “Wow, how is it you both told me you loved each other before you told each other? This is too much. Imma go now.”

He left.

Mickey squatted down in front of Ian. “You must know I love you. I assumed you loved me because you were willing to stick your neck out for me…for my family you didn’t even know. Is it true?”

“Of course it’s true. I love you so much, Mickey.”

They kissed passionately, Mickey’s hand finding its way to Ian’s waist. Steps outside made Mickey rise to a standing position over Ian and wipe his mouth.

Ian looked up to see who was walking in. 


	10. Chapter 10

Mickey crossed his arms and released his breath though his mouth. Maybe that would calm his racing heart.

His dad walked in and looked at Mickey. “What are you doing in here?”

He scowled. “Nothing. Just…”

“What?”

Mickey flicked his lip with his thumb. He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with that, maybe something about work he was going to make Ian do...clean his  underwear or something...but Ian spoke up.

“I told you I just saw the dust. That’s how I followed you here. I wouldn’t have been able to at all but my horse got spooked by the robbery and I just happened to be on the same side of town as you when you set off.”

“I guess you make mistakes just like the rest of us, Mickey. Get out of here, now. I need to talk to this kid.”

Mickey took a long look at Ian and backed away, out of the barn. He shut the door and put an ear against it, but he couldn’t hear anything. At least Ian wasn’t screaming. He jogged over to the house.

Mickey found Iggy and Mandy in the kitchen looking awfully furtive. “What are you two doing?”

Mandy looked up. “I’m making dad lunch. I’m going to make him a big drink but we’re trying to decide if we could get away with putting laudanum in the stew.”

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think even your cooking is bad enough to hide the taste of laudanum. Maybe put it in some whiskey.”

“Fuck you. My cooking’s fine. I’ll just put some chili powder in it.”

Iggy put a hand on her arm. “What if putting it in something that’s hot dulls the effect?”

“Shit,” Mandy said. She sighed. “Bring me the whiskey. He’s always half in the bag before he starts on the whiskey, so he probably won’t notice the taste. And he won’t let any of us drink any of it, so we won’t accidently poison ourselves. But he doesn’t usually get into the whiskey until well after dinner, so we won’t be able to set our plan in motion for a while. I was hoping to get gone midafternoon.”

Iggy turned to Mickey. “Mickey, you need to take the horse to the overlook where you left Ian. Don’t come right back, though. You’re supposed to be taking it to the bottom of the mountain and releasing it.”

Mickey nodded. “Should I put anything in the saddlebag?”

Mandy shook her head. “If we drug Dad Ian and I should be able to pack later.”

Mickey wasn’t sure what the entire plan was, but he trusted that everyone knew what to do so he got his shit together and went to get the horse he’d stolen and took it up to the overlook where Ian had been hiding. He waited around for a while, stressing and worrying about their plans and the likelihood that they were going to work out. It would probably help with his worrying if he actually knew what the plan was.

When he got  back he found Iggy alone and made Iggy tell him everything. He thought it was a good plan. Better than he could have come up with. Iggy was a lot smarter than he seemed. Not like their dad ever let him speak up and contribute to plans. Mickey was loud and thoughtless enough that he managed to have quite a bit of input into their plans. It usually got him a punch in the face or a cuff on the head, too, but he seemed to get a lot of that anyway. Better than what Mandy got. 

Mandy had managed to sneak a look at Ian and she told Mickey he didn’t seem too beat up. Whatever Terry had said to him he hadn’t beaten him much. 

After lunch Mickey, Mandy and Iggy did their various chores while Terry was day drinking in the cabin. Usually this was annoying but they were all happy that he was going to get drunker faster than they anticipated. 

Mickey turned to Iggy halfway through cleaning a horse stall. “You didn’t give dad the key to Ian’s manacles, did you?”

“Right here,” Iggy said, patting his shirt pocket. “Stop worrying. Go look at Ian and confirm your worrying is for  nothing. He’s right there and okay.” 

Mickey walked over to the other side of the barn. Ian was lying with his  eyes clothes, arms above his head. 

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Your arms sore?”

Ian smiled ruefully. “Your dad seems like the type to have put you in these chains once or twice. My arms are fine. If this is what I need to do, it’s fine.”

Mickey squatted down, shocked at how  relieved he felt just looking at Ian’s face. “I miss touching you already.”

Ian laughed. “You’re such a sap. Way worse than me. Get up and get working in case your dad comes in.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. Sappy or not, it was true. Apparently you can get addicted to a gentle touch pretty fast. 

Ian’s smiled faded. “I love you.” 

Mickey nodded. “Me too. If I don’t get the chance to say goodbye...I mean, I hope they don’t hang me and this isn’t goodbye forever.” 

“I hope they don’t hang me for helping outlaws.” 

Mickey frowned. “You don’t have to be involved in that. They probably won’t hang Mandy because she’s young and a woman and had no choice in her involvement with us. They’ll paint you like you’re one of us. You should just ride with her to the town and not be involved.”

Ian’s chin rose  defiantly . “Didn’t you hear what I said? I love you.”

“I love you more than anything. I don’t want you getting in trouble for me.”

“I won’t go into the town with Mandy. I promise.” 

Mickey grinned. “You’re a fuckin’ liar. Do what you want. Just take care of yourself. And let Mandy take care of you. She’s tougher than she looks.” 

“Get  outta here.”

Mickey walked out to go check on Mandy and their dad. If Terry got drunk enough, he might try something with her. Mickey would much rather take a punch than let her be subjected to that again 

Mickey walked into the cabin warily, but Mandy and Terry seemed to be coexisting peacefully. Mandy was boiling something on the stove and Terry was sitting at the small kitchen table drinking beer. Normally Mickey would remind his dad of something that needed doing or make him a snack to try to keep him from getting too drunk too fast, but since that was the goal, he didn’t say anything. And then he thought maybe he should say something because he might seem suspicious if he didn’t say something. But then he rethought that and decided to get the knife handle he was whittling and go sit out on the porch. 

After a while his dad joined him. It was a nice day so it wasn’t surprising. 

Mickey was surprised when his dad dangled a beer in his face, though. “You want one?”

Mickey nearly sputtered. He couldn’t remember another time his father had gone and gotten him a beer. He took it and used his whittling tool to open it, and then took a swig as his father sat down. 

“What happened in town?” Terry asked. 

Mickey stared at his father. “You didn’t see?”

Terry shook his head, but didn’t look in Mickey’s eyes. It had all happened so fast he wasn’t sure what had happened. But he did know why he’d fallen off his horse. “My horse got shot. I had to run out of there.” 

Terry stared. “You sure you didn’t get caught? Come back here and make a deal?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “You think the deal would include letting me have ample time to come back here and warn you so you could get away? I’ve been here for like 24 hours. If I had made a deal, they would have made me lead a posse here and that would have been that. If they listened to a wanted bank robber at all.” 

“You were away a long time.”

“I already explained what happened. You  gonna ask what you really want to know or what?”

Terry cuffed the back of Mickey’s head with an open hand. “Enough of that smart lip, boy. I don’t want you thinking of you can get away with saying whatever you want.”

Mickey finally cottoned on to what was going on. Terry knew he’d seen him with Mandy, and he was trying to tell him to keep his mouth shut without saying the words. 

Terry let out a long sigh. “Some things don’t make a lot of sense when you’re young but they make sense when you’re older. You have to trust me. I have your best interests at heart. All of you kids.” 

Mickey literally bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying what he really thought of that, and went back to whittling. Terry horked, spit, and then went back inside. 

Terry was into the whiskey by dinner. He drank without seeming to notice anything different about it, never suspected there was an entire bottle of laudanum in it. 

Mickey watched him eat his stew ridiculously slowly. He lifted each spoonful with the deliberate action of a man dismantling a bomb, and his mouth chased the spoon around like it kept on trying to get away from him. It would have been funny if Mickey wasn’t so worried about everything they were going to. 

“Barr nah  laa oooh,” Terry said. 

Mandy looked at Mickey and then at Iggy. “What if we killed him?”

Iggy shrugged. “It would probably make this whole thing go a lot better.”

“Iggy!” Mandy shouted. 

Terry flinched and mumbled something, burped, and then fell clean off his chair. 

“Check his pulse, Mickey, check his pulse!” Mandy shouted. 

“Shut the fuck up, Mandy. It’s fine,” Mickey said. He crouched down and checked Terry’s pulse. “It’s there. I feel it. Depressingly strong. You know we should just tie him up and forget about the stash. Knowing Terry he’s probably spent all of it anyway.” 

Iggy scoffed. “You want us to just leave with nothing? We’re outlaws. We need money to get by without being noticed. And we’ve put up with enough shit that we deserve that money.”

Mickey nodded. “Fine. Go get Ian out of the manacles. We need to move Terry to his chair so he doesn’t suspect we drugged him, and that’d be easier with another set of hands.” 

Iggy left without argument. 

Mandy smirked. “Another set of big strong hands, eh, brother? You like those big strong arms of his?”

“Like you don’t.” 

Mandy was surprised into a laugh. “I’ll get my things. Let me know when Ian’s ready to go.” 

Mickey stood up and gave Ian a kiss on the mouth when he walked in. After he looked over at his brother self-consciously, but Iggy was only grinning at him. The three of them lugged Terry to his chair and then Iggy smiled at them and jerked his head towards the door. “I’ll be outside.”

“Please, please don’t let this be the last time I see you and Mandy,” Mickey said. 

Ian looked him straight in the eye, his gaze heartbreakingly sincere. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Mickey. I promise you, baby. I’ll come back to you. You don’t let your dad hurt you. Not at all. If it’s him or you, you take him out. Promise me.” 

Mickey nodded. His throat constricted when he tried to talk and he cleared his throat. “I promise. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

They didn’t say I love you but it was clear in both their eyes. They kissed desperately, hard and fast and wet with tongue. 

“You two can play grab-ass when I get back,” Mandy said. 

Mickey pulled back from Ian and looked at his sister, who was slinging a rucksack on her shoulder. “Don’t be jealous, Mandy. It  ain’t a good look.” 

Mandy ignored him and looked at Ian. “Come on, loverboy. We’ve got negotiations to make.” 


	11. Chapter 11

Ian and Mandy found the horse easily and led it to the bottom of the mountain, then mounted up, Ian riding behind Mandy. 

They cantered and stuck to the main roads, and there was enough moonlight that Ian was fairly confident the horse wouldn’t take a wrong step. This trip was a lot quicker than Ian and Mickey’s because they weren’t trying to avoid the main roads, and they weren’t trying to evade people following them. 

Ian dozed a little until a random thought made him sit bolt upright. “This horse. We took this horse from a guy who knows us. He saw me, talked to me...he’ll be able to identify the horse.”

Mandy shrugged. “Maybe you should do what Mickey wanted you to do all along and wait for me while I go to talk to the townsfolk.” 

Ian frowned. “I don’t feel right about that. Maybe Iggy should have come with you.”

Mandy looked at Ian over her shoulder. “The point of you coming with me was to get you away from dad, loser. You don’t know my dad. It’s...he could have just got mad one day and killed you for no reason. That’s the kind of guy he is. He’s done it before.  So you needed to be away from him, even if he said he wouldn’t kill you. He’s not trustworthy.” 

“Okay. Maybe I can pretend Mickey took me hostage...no. ..that won’t work,” Ian said. His mind was racing the way it did sometimes when he got into really high-pressure situations. He kept leaping from one idea to another.

“Ian, you just have to wait on the outskirts of town. I can manage this. Trust me, okay? I’ll talk to them.”

Ian thought for a moment. “But how will you explain what I’m doing joining the posse when you gear up to go get Terry?”

Mandy sighed. “You can’t come. Just book a room in the hotel and lay low. When it’s all sorted Mickey will come get you.” 

“But what if you and Mickey need me? What if the townspeople go into your family’s camp shooting?” 

Mandy glanced back. “What would you do? Throw yourself in front of Mickey and Iggy simultaneously? We want you safe, Ian. All three of us. So just wait at the hotel, and avoid the guy you stole the horse from. We’ll release him near the  town line and hope someone finds him and brings him to his owner.” 

Ian felt useless, but he knew Mandy was right. He couldn’t risk their plan by having been involved in tying up that guy and stealing his horse. Mickey was right; he never should have let him see his face. Sometimes he was so reckless. He didn’t know why he was like that. No one else seemed to lose control of themselves the way he did—well, no one but his mother Monica. But he didn’t want to think about how much he was like her. She’d never done their family any good, and he didn’t like to think he’d inherited her unhinged ways.

When they got to the town line, Ian and Mandy slipped off the horse, removed their possessions from the saddlebag, and slapped the horse's rump. He gave an indignant snort and ran off. 

“You’re doing the right thing, Ian. I’ll be fine,” Mandy said. She smiled at him and put a comforting hand on his arm. “And if you hear they’re going to hang me, it’s your job to come and rescue me from the gallows.” 

Ian grinned. “I’ll start making plans.”

“Don’t come into town until the posse has cleared off. Hopefully the guy you tied up in the cave will go with the posse so there won’t be any way for you to be found out.” 

“What if the posse’s still on the way to Mexico? What if the guy from the cave never got found and he died of dehydration? I could be a murderer!”

Mandy put a cool hand on Ian’s cheek. “Relax. I’ll make sure they know there’s a dude in the cave. He wouldn’t have died  yet, it’s only been a day and a half or something. You left him with water, didn’t you?”

Ian nodded. He couldn’t remember, but the thought was reassuring.

Mandy continued talking. “If the posse isn’t back, we’ll just have to wait for them to come back. No problem.” 

Ian nodded again. He didn’t think anyone could be as reassuring as Mickey, but Mandy was doing a fair job. She was giving him a look like she thought he was crazy, though. He hoped she wouldn’t just abandon him there. All she would have to do was not tell Mickey where to find him, and then none of the Milk gang would have to worry about Ian and his crazy ideas...but he couldn’t think like that. He had to remember what Mickey said, that he should trust Mandy to protect him. He gave her a quick hug and watched her walk  away for a few moments before getting on with it. 

He looked around to find an abandoned hut or a bridge he could hide under—maybe a nice tree that gave good shade and shelter. It was only for a little while, after all. 

The sun was starting to rise and that made the search go a little easier. He finally found a burned-out homestead with an empty but still-standing livestock lean-to that wasn’t visible from the road and made himself comfortable there. The road was hidden by a rise, and if someone went by on  horseback he could hear them and see the dust, so he was confident he would be able to judge when the posse went by. 

Ian  bided his time, thinking about Mickey and dreaming up plans for where they could go and what they could do. He wondered if he was fooling himself with all this. What if when he and Mickey resolved all of their problems, they couldn’t make it work? They’d only known each other a couple of days. Could they really be in love? 

No one seemed to ask men and women who fell in love with each other those kinds of questions, but Ian supposed they probably asked themselves that kind of thing. Everyone had doubts. But did he know Mickey well enough to throw his lot in with him?

The first mark in his  favour was that Mickey seemed to want him. Even after seeing Ian lose control of himself, Mickey still wanted him. Around mid-afternoon he saw a large amount of horses riding quickly off into the desert. He decided that must be Mandy and the posse. 

He drank the last of his water and started walking up the road. He walked quickly. He hadn’t had a proper warm meal since last night, just some biscuits Mandy had packed for him. He wondered if Mickey was okay and then put the thought out of his mind. He had to trust him. 

When he got to the hotel, Ian paid for his room and asked for a hot meal to be sent up. He couldn’t really afford it, but it would be worse to be caught by the man he’d tied in the cave than to run out of money. He had a quick look at the main room of the saloon before walking through. He didn’t see the guy from the cave anywhere. 

When he got to his room, he started to feel safe for the first time since the bank robbery, and it was like all his adrenaline left his body at once. He sunk into the bed and slept like the dead, on top of the covers with his clothes still on. He didn’t even hear the knock on the door that night. 


	12. Chapter 12

Iggy crossed his arms and looked over at Mickey. “Try and get some sleep.”

Mickey scowled. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. What are we going to say to dad when he wakes up, that we just let her and Ian leave with the money?”

Iggy grinned. “Mandy made the stew. We say she drugged us, too. And we can’t exactly say we saw her with the box that holds the stash if we were asleep, but we can wonder loudly where they could have gotten enough money to run off.”

“And then maybe we can ask dad if Mandy knew where the stash was,” Mickey said, nodding.

Iggy snorted a laugh. “This might go okay if he doesn’t kill us.”

“Or if the townsfolk don’t kill us.”

“Or if we don’t get Terry subdued by the time the posse gets here and there’s a big shoot out and everyone kills us.”

Mickey grinned at his brother. “You can’t accuse Milkovichs of being optimists, can ya?” 

Iggy shrugged. “I wouldn’t have said so, but then I wouldn’t have thought one of us would fall in love at first sight, either.”

“It wasn’t exactly first sight. Not quite.”

“You keep telling yourself that. You don’t have to apologize for Ian. He’s the best thing to happen to this family in a while,” Iggy squeezed Mickey’s shoulder. “Get some sleep.”

Mickey tossed and turned, and he heard his brother doing the same in the other room. The only thing that gave him comfort was that Ian was away from Terry. No matter what the townsfolk did, it probably wouldn’t be as bad as what Terry would have done. And as for what Terry might do to him and Iggy, they could handle that. As long as Mandy and Ian were okay, Mickey could handle anything. Mandy wouldn’t be held accountable for the things the gang had done because she was a girl and hadn’t actually done any of the robberies, and Mandy would make sure Ian didn’t get drawn into their mess.

Mickey woke up too early that morning and went out to the well to get water to wash up. He didn’t want his dad to know he was up early—he didn’t want to do anything that would tip Terry off that he was involved with Ian and Mandy’s disappearance. He mucked out some stalls and groomed Ian’s horse—they might need it by the end of the day to get away. He wondered if the townsfolk would let them keep the other horses.

“Fuck!” Mickey shouted. He ran into the house. “Iggy, wake up.”

“What?” Iggy said. He had no shirt on and he scratched his stomach calmly as he clambered out of bed.

“Iggy, the townspeople won’t let us get away or turn dad in or anything unless we give back the money. They’re going to take it from us.”

Iggy pushed Mickey against the cabin wall. “Shut up, man. You’ll wake dad.”

They both looked over at where Terry slept on the chair. He stirred a little and snored louder, and they slowly walked out of the cabin and closed the door carefully behind them.

“What were you saying?” Iggy asked.

“They won’t believe we’ve really reformed unless we give the money back.”

“What is it with you wanting to give the money back? Are you going soft or something? A changed man?”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you. I just know the first thing they’re gonna do is ask for our ill-gotten gains.”

“So we gotta get the money quick, and make sure we grab a hold of it. We leave a little in the box, hide it, and act just as disappointed as the townsfolk when we open it and see there’s nothing much there. And you can't tell me you feel guilty. All the banks we hit were all insured anyway.”

“I don’t feel guilty. I just know these moralizing country types.”

“Do you now?” Iggy grinned. “You wanna get this show on the road? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can hog-tie dad in the middle of the cabin.”

Mickey took a deep breath and then shouted. “Holy shit, dad!”

Iggy put his hand up to his mouth to suppress a laugh. “Shit, shit, did you let Ian out of the barn dad? Where the fuck is he?”

“Fuck that, where the fuck is Mandy?”

They burst into the cabin, and saw Terry was waking up on his chair. “What the fuck is all the shouting about?”

“That fucking dude in the barn is gone. And I think he kidnapped Mandy!” Mickey said.

Terry looked up through is greasy bangs. “Kidnapped? Don’t you remember she was the one who wanted to keep him around? She was probably the reason he was sniffing around here. She must have met up one time in town and spread her legs for him, and he came to get her, but you found him before he could, Iggy.”

Mickey looked over at Iggy. “But Mandy doesn’t have the kind of money you’d need to run away. And that kid didn’t seem like he had a pot to piss in. They didn’t even take his horse.”

Terry stood up. “Probably thought I wouldn’t chase them if they didn’t take his horse. Shows what they fucking know.”

Iggy frowned. “They probably just thought we’d wake up if we heard the horse hooves. I don’t know what they’re going to do for money, though. They can’t stay around here, so they’ll have to leave town and then get set up somewhere. Did the kid tell you if he had any money or training, dad?”

Terry shook his head. “He was just a typical dude looking for work. The only thing he had was that horse.”

Mickey was trying to find a way to mention the money that wouldn’t be suspicious, but he was hardly subtle on a good day. He decided to go with, “Well, we know Mandy doesn’t have any money, anyway.”

Iggy let nearly a minute go by before he gasped. “Mandy didn’t know where our stash was, did she dad? What if they…she wouldn’t, right?”

Terry’s eyes widened in alarm and he slipped on his shoes, leaving the cabin. Mickey and Iggy glanced at each other and then followed him. He went past the barn and into the abandoned mine shaft, where he moved a rock and there, low and behold, was his old cigar box. He opened it and it was full of money. He closed the lid and put it back, then moved the rock back in place. “She didn’t take it.”

“She wouldn’t. She might be hot for this Ian guy, but she wouldn’t steal from us,” Mickey said.

Terry looked at him like he was an idiot and then walked back to the cabin. Mickey followed him. Iggy didn’t. Mickey assumed he was going to handle taking the bulk of the money and hiding it somewhere. Mickey didn’t care about the money as long as everyone was safe, so he wasn’t worried about his brother running off with it.

Terry sat down on his chair. “Shit. That news hit me hard. Or maybe it was the whiskey last night hitting harder than usual. Need a little of the hair of the dog. Pour me one.”

Mickey nodded. It would be really nice if they could just get Terry drugged and tied up and they he could be arrested nice and easy. Mickey poured the whiskey with steady hands and brought it over. He handled it to Terry, who threw back the tumbler of whiskey as though it was a shot. He handed it back.

“Pour me another.”

Mickey did.

Terry drank this one slower, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve done nothing but tried to be a good father to you all. And this is the thanks I get. Your ungrateful fucking sister. I can’t stand the thought of her out there alone with that pervert. I doubt they’re getting married. Her virtue isn’t safe with him.”

Mickey swallowed a sarcastic remark about how it was a heck of a lot safer with Ian than it was with Terry, and let his anger show on his face. “If either one of them shows their face around here I’ll beat them bloody. Should we try to find them? I don’t know when they left…I didn’t drink much but I slept late this morning…”

Terry swallowed the last of his whiskey. “Mandy’ll be back. When she realizes she’s just a whore to him. She’ll be back. And she’ll know her place. In my bed.”

Mickey’s jaw dropped. “What did you say?”

Terry’s eyelids fluttered. “Stupid girl. She she. Stupid. Leaving me.” His head rolled to one side and then his chin dropped to his chest. He was out.

Mickey ran to the door. “Iggy!”

Iggy’s head poked out of the barn door. Mickey didn’t want to risk shouting for rope, but he mimed the action of tying up someone’s hands, and Iggy nodded and went back into the barn. He came in the cabin moments later with thin but strong rope, and then proceeded to tie Terry tightly to the chair.

Terry stirred in his seat. “What are what? What’s happening? Ginger bastard.”

Mickey looked at Iggy. “So do you think Mandy and Ian really got it done? You think they got us a pardon?”

Iggy nodded. “It’s a good deal, right? Get rid of the ring leader, and turn the rest of us into solid citizens? Maybe we could join a wild west show.”

“I hope you’re right. You get the money?”

Iggy grinned. “Squared away. I kept some of it in the mine for us to give back.”

“Did you count it?”

Iggy shook his head. “No time. But it’s big bills. More than we thought. We should be able to get set up. Maybe buy a farm somewhere.” 

Mickey nodded. It was almost too good to be true, and no Milkovich had ever been an optimist. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, or for something terrible to happen.

Neither of them was able to choke down breakfast; they were too nervous. 

Around noon they heard horses. A lot of horses. A voice shouted. “Milk Gang, come out of the cabin with your hands up!”

Mickey and Iggy exchanged a glance, and then they put their hands up and left the cabin.

There were about ten men on horseback outside of the cabin, all training their weapons on Mickey and Iggy. Mandy was near the back of the crowd riding a white horse he’d never seen before.

The man in front glared down at them. “Where’s Terry?”

Mickey glanced at Iggy, who shrugged.

Mickey said, “He’s tied up inside. We didn’t want any bloodshed when we surrendered him to you. Figured tying him up was the only way that was going to happen.”

Iggy laughed. “Well, you drugged him, too.”

The leader, the one who’d spoken before, looked at them shrewdly. “So you really were in on this plan to turn your father in?”

Iggy spoke up. “Absolutely. He forced us to be in his outlaw gang and he got our two other brothers killed. Mickey almost died last time he forced us to commit a crime. Enough is enough. We’re men now, so we can make our own decisions, and we decided we want no part of his gang.”

The man gestured to one of the others to go into the cabin and look around, and then holstered his gun, and the rest of the posse did the same.

“Like they said, he’s tied up…and snoring like a baby.” A voice from within said.

The man smiled, the creases on the edges of his eyes making him look kindly despite the hard look in his eyes. “Well, I guess we need to have a chat about the terms of your surrender.”


	13. Chapter 13

Ian finally got out of bed briefly the next morning when the proprietor knocked on his door and asked him to pay for another day or leave. He gave the man the last of his dwindling supply of quarters, and hoped he didn’t have to stay the following night.

He went back to sleep after tiredly reassuring the man he wasn’t sick with anything that would get the rest of the guests sick.

When he awoke it was to a key turning in the lock. The proprietor was back, and this time Mickey walked in behind him.

The proprietor spoke up. “Sir, this man claims he’s here to meet you.”

Ian lifted his head enough to nod and the proprietor left quickly, probably thinking Ian had the plague.

Mickey locked the door behind him and flopped down on the bed beside him. “You been sleepin’ all day?”

Ian rubbed his face along Mickey’s shoulder, enjoying how he smelled. “Forget that. Tell me what happened.”

Mickey put his arm around Ian’s shoulder and nudged Ian’s head onto his chest. “It all worked out pretty much like you planned it. Some slight changes. Iggy has the stash. We have pardons. Dad’s going to hang.” He said that last sentence quietly, and Ian wasn’t sure why.

“You’re not feeling guilty, are you?”

Mickey ran his fingers through Ian’s hair. “Nah. It had to be done. He would have got us all killed, or killed us himself. We can watch him hang tomorrow, if you want.”

Ian frowned and caressed Mickey’s chest. “I didn’t push you to turn him in, did I? You won’t hate me for this later on, will you?”

Mickey released a long breath. “I’m not even sure how to exist without Terry breathing down my neck. He wouldn’t have just let us leave. He would have come after us, made our lives a living hell. And this way we get to go our own way. Take the money and get out of this place.”

Ian laughed softly. “I guess you don’t want to settle down in a place where everyone knows you were bank robbers.”

“Double-crossing bank robbers,” Mickey said softly.

Ian blinked several times. Mickey really felt bad about turning his father in. He raised his head and looked Mickey in the eye. “Mick, he was fucking your sister. He might have shot your horse. He definitely left you behind. He didn’t care about your brothers getting killed. He would have killed you if he ever suspected who you really were, and he might have killed me for fun one day. You don’t owe him a fucking thing.”

Mickey tilted Ian’s chin towards him and kissed him on the mouth. “I know. But I’m not exactly going to tell them most of that, so everyone just sees us as double-crossing trash.”

“I love you. So do Mandy and Iggy. Who cares what a bunch of hicks in the desert think of you? We’re not going to be here for much longer, are we?”

“It’s not like we can stay even if we wanted to. The second we try to buy land they’d realize we kept most of the money.”

Ian wanted to know how much money it was, but he didn’t want to ask because Mickey got so sensitive about it every time he brought it up. He didn’t care about the money anyway. He was just curious. Suddenly Mickey seemed like a lot of work. He went limp.

“You okay, man?” Mickey ran his fingers through Ian’s hair.

Ian pulled away. “I need sleep.”

Mickey propped his head up on his hand. “I’m glad you decided to stay here while Mandy handled everything. Why did you though?”

“The guy whose horse we stole would have recognized me.”

“You covered his eyes, though.”

Ian felt tears sting his eyes. He had covered the guy’s eyes. Maybe he would have connected the horse being released outside of town at the same time Ian arrived with Ian, or maybe he would have recognized his voice. But in his panic he had been certain that the man had seen him. Ian choked back a sob at this evidence that he wasn’t right in the head.

Mickey rubbed Ian’s shoulder. “What’s going on with you? Is this…is this like when you get out of control? You get out of control sleepy, too? Ian, the hotel guy told me you’d been sleeping for the whole time you’ve been here. That shit ain’t normal.”

Ian huffed and turned so his body was facing away from Mickey’s. “What are you going to do, put me in an institution?” 

Mickey’s arm’s snaked around Ian. “Why would you think that?” he asked, his voice quiet and tender.

“’S where my mom is. I act like her. She’s…she’s always doing crazy stuff. If it’s too hard for you, I’ll just go. I know this should be a victory. We should be dancing in the streets. But all I can do is pick a fight and I’m so tired I can barely talk to you.”

“That mean you don’t want to fight with me?”

Ian turned so he was facing Mickey and leaned over to kiss him. “Of course I don’t. I love you. But I’m not always the guy who can think on his feet and help you take on your dad or whatever terrible thing you’re facing. I’m not even always the guy who can help out around the house or show up to my job. A lot of the time this is who I am. You’d be better off without me.”

Mickey looked deep into Ian’s eyes. “I guess it’s pretty lucky we have enough money to get some land and work it a little north of here. It doesn’t matter if you fuck up now and again if you’re your own boss.”

“You and me? Our own place?”

Mickey smiled. “More like you, me, Mandy and Iggy. We’d all live together at first, and then if Mandy and Iggy find people and get married, they’ll build another cabin and we’ll all work the farm together. If that’s okay with you.”

Ian resisted the urge to jump at the chance to finally have a home. He had to think about it. Would he be able to make a home with Mickey and his family? He wouldn’t be able to send money home if they had to build a homestead. But maybe…

“Would…if my sister wants us to, would it be okay if we took in one of my brothers? Maybe two? If they need to have one less mouth to feed back east?”

Mickey shrugged. “As long as they pull their weight on the farm, and I don’t have to hide how I feel about you, it’s fine with me. I’m sure Iggy and Mandy would agree.”

Ian considered. He’d never wanted to tell his family about himself, but it had worked out for Mickey. Would his family even want him to take after the kids if they knew he wasn’t just unbalanced like their mother, but also unnatural as well? Maybe he should tell them about both before he offered to take one of the kids. But he couldn’t make any such offer until they had the property picked out and the cabin built, so he would have time to figure it out. If he was planning on staying with Mickey indefinitely, he would have to tell his family, he realized. The way he felt about Mickey…well, there was nothing to be ashamed of. And when he’d decided he would never tell his family the truth, he’d been picturing himself having meaningless affairs with married men for the rest of his life. Somehow he’d never thought he’d fall in love and get to have something worth telling his family about. Something he wouldn’t be ashamed of.

Mickey pulled away. “You don’t have to. I guess maybe it’s a little soon for all that. I just thought—”

“I want that more than anything. Please don’t think I was hesitating because I didn’t want to. I wanted it so bad I was trying to make sure I could say yes before I said yes. If I figured out I couldn’t do it after the fact it would break my heart.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Really. I want to live with you and your family. I can’t believe you want that. I’m not the kind of person any normal person would want.”

“Good thing I’m not normal than, right? I’m a fucking outlaw.”

“Are you sure you want this? Me? I’m not easy.”

“I love you, Ian. And I’m not exactly easy, either. I mean I’m easy to get into bed, but I’m not always easy to get along with. And I come with two siblings who aren’t always easy to get along with. Iggy could go full criminal for all we know. Even I might lose my head and rob a bank if things start looking desperate on the farm. Maybe we won’t know enough about farming between the four of us to even make it work. But I want to try with you if you want to try with me.”

Ian smiled. “We know a lot more about each other than a lot of other couples do when they get married. And we know we can trust each other and help each other. I say we do it.” 

Mickey held him tighter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one's got one more chapter in it. I haven't decided if I want to have an epilogue showing Ian back east with his family on a visit and life on the farm, or a short sequel.


	14. Chapter 14

Mickey woke up the next day being snuggled hard by Ian, encased in the man’s strong arms. He felt something else get hard, but ignored it. Ian had told him he wasn’t feeling up to anything like that right now, and he could wait. Apparently they had a whole lifetime to bang, so he wasn’t going to push it now.

Ian nuzzled his nose into Mickey’s neck and he jumped a little at the tickling sensation, making Ian wake up fully.

“How’d you sleep?” Ian asked.

“Good. You think you’re about ready to get up? I could use you there today. I know you can’t hold my hand in front of all those people, but just having you there would be really fucking great.”

Ian squeezed him tighter, and then pulled his arms away from around Mickey’s body. “I can do that. I’m sorry about being so useless. I should have helped Mandy. I said I would, and I just lay here like a—”

Mickey sat up. “Don’t finish that sentence. You did good. If it weren’t for you, my family would still be at my dad’s mercy. And everything worked out fine. Mandy didn’t need any help. Everything’s great. Why do you need to beat yourself up when everything worked out great?”

Ian sighed. “It’s just something I’ve always done. I’ll try not to tell you about it if it bothers you.”

Mickey frowned. “No, tell me and I’ll set you straight. You’re fucking fantastic, Gallagher, and I’m gonna make sure you know it.”

Ian raised up and kissed Mickey lightly. “I got really lucky when you tried to steal my horse, didn’t I?”

Mickey smirked. “Not as lucky as me. I got a boyfriend and a horse. You just got a boyfriend.”

Ian lay back down, laughing. “You got enough money for me to have a bath?”

“I think we can both have a bath if we take turns in the same water. Too bad we can’t share it at the same time but the bathing facilities in this place ain’t exactly private.”

Mickey went and arranged it, and then they both took turns having a bath. Mickey didn’t really feel he needed one, but Ian was grimy from having been asleep in his dusty clothes for a couple of days. Mickey felt maybe it was respectful to get cleaned up to watch his father hang. It was the closest Terry would get to a funeral, so he ought to show some kind of respect. The man had been a monster but he’d still been Mickey’s father.

When noon approached he and Ian went to the square where the gallows had been erected. Mandy and Iggy were already there. They had had the same idea as Mickey, and looked quite respectable in their best clothes.

Mandy turned to Ian, looking concerned. “You okay, Ian?”

Ian smiled a little sadly. “Yeah, sorry I let you down. I was just…I was a little overwhelmed and I lost my head. Sorry.”

Mandy smiled, and put her arms around Ian, hugging him in the street like a hussy. “You don’t need to apologise. Everything went great. I was fine on my own.”

Mickey glared at Mandy for manhandling Ian when he couldn’t, but she punched Mickey’s shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I heard you spent the night in his room, Mick. What did you expect me to do? I had to make it look like you got a reason to consider him one of the family or something.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. He was lucky she hadn’t stuck her tongue into Ian’s mouth. “No one here gives a shit. They all think we’re horrible criminals. Immorality on top of that wouldn’t surprise them.”

“Let’s not tempt them, though. It’s not like it’s that much harder to hang two people instead of one.”

That was a really good point, so Mickey moved a little further away from Ian and waited for the proceedings to start.

The hanging went a lot faster than Mickey had imagined it would, and then they all set out on foot to the next town over. The town had taken all of the Milkovichs’ horses, but they were allowed to keep Ian’s, so they had loaded up their possessions on Winsor and were on their way.

“How much money we got?” Mickey asked Iggy when they’d long left the town behind.

“Enough to buy some horses and get a homestead. And maybe some livestock, too.”

Mickey frowned. “You sure? I don’t exactly remember you being that good at math.”

“I’m sure. I looked into all this stuff when Colin died. I knew if I stayed with dad I’d end up dead, too. But when I figured out how much money it would take, I gave up. Just started doing exactly what dad said. I knew I’d never be getting my share of the loot.”

Mandy turned around and looked at the two of them, the desert sunset behind her. “You realize that dad’s dead? Dad’s fucking dead! We’re free, motherfuckers!” She yipped like a coyote and jumped into Ian’s arms, and he spun her around.

Ian set her down and turned to Iggy and Mickey. “We won’t get to the next town before morning. We gotta camp.”

“I know a place,” Iggy said.

Iggy started walking ahead, and Ian fell back to walk alongside Mickey.

Ian nudged Mickey with his shoulder. “You good?”

“Never been better.”

Ian looked behind them. “There’s clouds back there. A storm. I hope it doesn’t catch us when we’re sleeping under the stars.”

Mickey glanced back. Ian really was such a city slicker. “You can see really far out here. That storm’s miles away and won’t hit for like a day.”

Ian grinned. “Oh yeah?” He threw an arm around Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey was pretty sure he sniffed the top of Mickey’s head, the freak.

Mickey grinned wide. “Oh yeah. Nothing but clear skies ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one to end. I will be writing a sequel that will hopefully have a little bit of farm life plus hanging with the Gallaghers back east. Hope you enjoyed it. This was a fun one :)


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